


Baby Fever

by timkons



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babysitting, Domestic Kink, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8646850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timkons/pseuds/timkons
Summary: Imagine Tim helping Kon babysit Jon and Kon puts the kid to bed and kisses his lil' forehead and that's it. Tim wants ten babies with Kon.





	1. main story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a oneshot! the second chapter is a gag extra that didn't fit into the main storyline.

"How long has it been?" Tim says in his most careful, even voice. He's judging -- Kon knows he is -- but he keeps it out of his tone, leaving Kon to make the connections for himself.

Kon clenches his jaw for what seems like a minute. Now he's the one frowning. "Six years."

"Yeah, so why now?"

"I don't know! Who cares? I-- I get it, Tim. I really do. They wanted to keep him safe and that meant disappearing and keeping him away from us."

Tim bites his bottom lip, telling himself that by 'us' Kon means the vigilante and spandex community at large, not him and Kon specifically, even though he knows perfectly well Kon means the two of them. From the resolve in Kon's voice and the clench of his face, Tim knows Kon's not backing down on this one. His question, after all, was 'do you want to come with me to meet him?' not, 'should I go meet him?' Tim pushes away his book and leans forward in his seat. "Are you sure it's alright if I come?"

Kon shrugs -- not in the way he does when he wants to ignore something but in the way he does when it's not a big deal to him. "I mean, we've been dating for over three years. You're basically family."

Tim nods, considering the response. By his standards, that would not be an affirmative, but by Kent standards, that was the singlemost important way of saying, 'I love you.' "Do you want me there?"

"I don't know... Kinda, yeah." Kon stops fidgeting and pauses for a moment. He looks at Tim and says seriously this time, "yeah."

"Okay," Tim agrees easily, going back to his reading. "Just let me know when."

-

A week later, Kon and Tim find themselves in northern California, standing in front of a rustic cabin. Clark's the first to emerge and he instantly clasps Kon on the shoulder. It's such a fatherly gesture and rationally Tim knows Clark is a dad now, but it's still surreal to see it.

"Thanks," Clark says with a squeeze. He smiles warmly at Tim too, which shouldn't make him as nervous as it does. "You brought Tim?"

Kon shrugs him off a little. "We're dating now. Kind of happened while you were underground. Ma didn't tell you?"

"She said I should talk to you," Clark says simply. There's bitterness in his voice, but it's not because of Tim. Tim knows this is just the tip of the iceberg of things Clark's missed in the time he's been away. "That's great. I'm happy for you. How long?"

"Thanks," Kon mumbles. "We're going on four now."

"Months?"

"Years."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Kon stuffs his hands in his pockets and Clark looks around a bit helplessly. Tim clears his throat before the awkward silence stretch on for two long. It seems to remind Kon and Clark that they're both here for a reason, not some gloomy reunion. "So, when do we get to meet him?"

"Right this way." Clark turns back toward the house and motions over his shoulder for them to follow. Kon hangs back.

"You okay?" Tim asks, concern clear in his voice as he squeezes Kon's elbow. Kon's normally not quiet or reluctant. The fact that he is right now shows just how shaken up he is by the situation.

Kon's face twitches through a few unsure expressions before settling on something akin to fear. "I'm... It's weird."

"Very weird," Tim agrees, chuckling. He leans in to brush their lips together and is relieved when Kon's frown turns right side up after the simple gesture. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Kon breathes against Tim's lips.

-

It's not like Kon or Tim have had much experience with kids. Besides Damian and a few rescue missions, Tim's never spent any amount of time around them. They're messy, loud, and selfish: all traits that the third Robin doesn't care for. But seeing Kon awkwardly interacting with Clark's son? Tim is _loving_ this. It's like Kon's body doesn't know what to do. He holds his hand out but thinks better of it and snaps it back, and he shuffles toward the kid twice before deciding that perhaps they didn't know each other well enough to hug. Tim knows he should help Kon out, but it's a little cute watching Kon open and close his mouth and clench his jaw. Eventually, Kon settles on a generic greeting: "H-Hey, little buddy..."

"His name is Jon," Lois offers, petting the boy's head. Jon's sitting beside her and starting to cling to his mother, obviously dubious of the new guests. He looks from Tim to Kon to Clark and up to his mom, who nods at him.

"Who are you?" Jon says bluntly.

Kon's taken aback, so Tim steps up to the plate for him. "My name's Tim. I'm a family friend. And this is--"

"I'm Kon," he cuts in, apparently remembering how words work. "I'm your, uh..."

Clark looks just as panicked as Kon. Neither seemed to have thought about the best way to describe a half-Kryptonian clone, but Lois says easily, "it's complicated."

Jon squints. "You look just like my dad."

"We're related," Kon admits with a little smile. Tim catches a narrowed gaze from Clark and bumps his shoulder against Kon's, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Um. Somehow."

"Huh." Jon's the spitting image of Clark, and he too starts to squint at Kon's suspicious response.

Lois, bless her heart, handles everything with grace and professionalism. Tim notes that her planning isn't anywhere near Batman-level, but her instincts are good. "Tim and Kon are staying over for dinner. Help me set the table, Jon."

Jon grumbles but follows his mom into the kitchen. Clark smiles at the two young adults before following his family, leaving Tim and Kon standing in his living room. Kon deflates once the Kents -- Whites? -- leave the room. Tim rubs his back soothingly. "Still okay?"

"I just need a minute." Kon's voice is flat and the look in his eye is distant, as if he's not even really looking at the house. "He's so small, Tim..." Tim hums in agreement. "It makes sense now. Why they tried to protect him."

Tim notices how Kon's face becomes graver and graver by the second, and he cups Kon's cheek, tilting Kon's gaze toward him. They may only have been dating for three years, but Tim's known Kon much longer to know that he's thinking something like Kon meeting Jon is putting the kid at danger or something equally Superstupid. "Clark wouldn't have asked you to meet him if he didn't trust you. They're still protecting him. And now, so are you."

Kon stares at Tim with his wide, fear-filled eyes until he sighs and closes them. Kon rests the weight of his head into Tim's palm and nods. He begins to smile and tilts his face just enough to place a kiss on the middle of Tim's life line. "You're the best, babe."

-

Just as Tim and Kon are about to leave, Clark rubs his mouth in that way that lets them both know he's about to bring up something difficult. His hand falls to his side and he smiles sadly at the couple. "Thank you."

"No problem," Kon says stiffly.

"I'm sorry, really. The end of the multiverse gave us a lot to think about. I'm just glad we were able to come back at all."

Tim feels a lump in his throat begin to form. It's not as if he or Kon could actually feel when the universe was out of existence, but the fact it happened at all is enough to set him on the edge. Kon grabs Tim's hand and squeezes, and Tim suspects Kon needs the close touch right now just as much as Tim does.

"Don't worry about it," Kon says, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It's not the first time the multiverse has pulled something like this, right? I'm just glad we got our continuity back."

Clark squeezes Kon's shoulder. Tim squeezes Kon's hand. "Don't be a stranger. I mean that. I... I want you to be a part of Jon's life."

Kon shifts his weight from foot-to-foot but he looks pleased -- unsure how to respond to that but pleased. "Does Ma know about him yet?"

Clark chuckles. "Do you think I'd be alive if she wasn't the first person I told?"

"That's true," Kon says with a cheeky grin and what almost sounds like a laugh. Just as quickly as it came, it passes, leaving them in silence again.

"We should go," Tim offers, placing both hands on Kon's shoulder. It's instinct by now, Tim hoisting himself onto Kon and Kon wrapping one arm beneath Tim's knees and the other around his back.

Clark tries not to stare at them, but it's a little impossible. Tim doesn't blame him; last Clark knew, Kon had just broken up with Cassie and was trying to make a space for himself in Smallville. Seeing him with Tim must be another reminder that he missed so much, and it probably doesn't help that Kon holds Tim bridal style when they travel now. "You two make a cute couple."

"Um. Thanks." Tim notices Kon squeezing him harder than usual at the compliment. "Later."

Tim watches Clark get smaller and smaller as Kon lifts them both into the sky. The last thing he sees is Lois and Jon coming out of the house and hugging Clark, and Tim hugs Kon tight enough to hear his heartbeat over the rush of wind.

-

It's weird at first. -- No, that's the understatement of the year. It's goddamn surreal. Tim finds himself seated at the Kent table in Smallville every Sunday after that first dinner with Clark's family. It's not like family dinners were familiar territory for him to begin with, so having Clark, his wife, their child, Ma, and him and Kon -- oh, and Krypto whining beneath the table -- just seems so...domestic.

"You okay?" Kon whispers over Ma's baked casserole while everybody laughs at a joke Lois told.

Tim continues poking at his burnt meatloaf with his fork, merely nodding. It's not very often that Tim feels so completely out of his comfort zone, but he can't help the feelings of inferiority. Not only was the meatloaf they brought store-bought, but Tim managed to burn it while heating up as well. None of Kents seemed to mind, but Tim was definitely bothered by how lackluster his contribution was in comparison to Ma's pies, Lois and Clark's stew, or even the batch of fresh orange and apple juice Kon mixed up before dinner. Even Jon had contributed a little something by setting up the table.

Sensing Tim's unease, Kon slips his hand into Tim's beneath the table and gives it a squeeze.

"So, Tim," Lois cuts in, apparently more perceptive than any of the Supers at the table, "what are you doing these days?"

"I'm the CEO of a subsidiary of Wayne Tech." At least talking gives him an excuse not to eat his burnt gift. Tim stuffs in another mouthful of fresh greens as he considers whether or not he should indulge Lois. Despite her good intentions, Tim recognizes the sparkle in her eye -- the sparkle of looking for a lead. Intentionally or not, Kon squeezes Tim's hand, and it makes trust her a little more. "We develop the communication hardware that all of Wayne Enterprises uses. It's actually kind of boring, to be completely honest."

"That's what he says," Kon butts in, not closing his mouth as he chews on a mouthful of mac and cheese, "but Tim pulled a 180 on it. They were thinking about axing the division until Tim took over."

"And the boy's barely old enough to drink," Ma adds. It earns a few 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from Lois and Clark, but Tim squirms under the praise. It's been years but he's still not used to it. Bruce's cool encouragement for improvement is still more comfortable to Tim than the open support and awe from the Kents.

"What's that mean?" Jon pipes from where he's sitting next to Kon. Despite their rocky start, Kon and Jon made quick friends. Earlier Kon asked about Jon's favorite movie -- Minions -- and the two hadn't stopped talking in Minionese until now. Tim speaks Mandarin, Russian, and three dialects of Hungarian, but he hasn't a single clue what they've babbled about all night.

"Well one of the things I do is work with the insides of your phone, Jon," Tim explains, smiling a little at his eager face. "Did you know there's three antennas in your smartphone? We're working on developing a fourth to connect all Wayne Enterprises devices on a private network."

Five, technically, if Tim considers the private lines to enhance Oracle's network reach, and six if the company moves forward on Wayne Enterprises' proposal to expand to the cellular data market. That, however, wasn't something anybody at the table needed to know, _especially_ Lois. Somehow, by the sweet smirk Lois flashes at him, Tim suspects she might already know.

"Whoooa... That's cool." Jon's impressed for exactly three seconds before he's tugging on Kon's sleeve again and chirping something in Minionese again. Tim nearly rolls his eyes, but then Kon says something back in that indecipherable language, and then Tim really does roll his eyes. Here he was dating the world's finest ten-year-old.

Ma and Clark smile as Kon babbles back at Jon, but Lois leans over her dinner, voice dropped to her serious tone. "That's a big accomplishment at your age, Tim."

He shrugs. Lois may think she's being subtle, but Tim knows what this is. Besides family goodwill or job security, Lois and Clark are both in their own way trying to figure out how much they've missed; what's changed, what's stayed the same. Part of Tim should make this easier on them for Kon's sake, but it's Kon that makes it so hard not to be bitter. They disappear willingly for years and come back expecting to be welcomed. "The whole world thinks it's riding on Bruce's coattails. Tim Drake-Wayne dropped out of high school."

"Oh," Lois and Clark both say at the same time. Tim smiles weakly for them, but honestly it feels like a sore spot probed. It's not like Tim is proud of his alias' (lack of) accomplishments, but it has to be done to keep their identities safe. And there was still the matter of Kon and the media to deal with...

"I'm sorry to hear that," Clark offers up, and so the adult conversation goes. Lois and Clark keep up the polite conversation while Ma offers consolations of wisdom every now and then, but all Tim can focus on is the way Kon and Jon whisper to each other beneath the conversation. It's as if they're in their own world by the way Kon shovels his peas onto Jon's plate and Jon picks out every carrot and gives it to Kon. Kon's sculpting a volcano out of his mashed potatoes and Jon starts lifting his plate to pour his gravy into it, Kon making quiet explosion sounds all the meanwhile.

"Jon!" Lois says at the same time Tim says, "Kon!"

Both half-Kryptonians snap their heads up with matching wide eyes and bashful smiles. It's also in tandem when they say, "sorry!"

"Jinx!" they yell at the same time. Tim face palms while Ma starts laughing.

"Our names sound exactly the same!" Jon says excitedly.

"We're only a letter apart. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah!" Jon holds out his fist, which Kon readily bumps his own against. Tim face palms while Ma starts laughing. This is just what Tim needs, another child. Wasn't Kon enough? He never wanted kids for exactly this reason.

Tim would be annoyed except he doesn't remember Kon looking that happy in a long, long time. Not since Tim decided to show him the different filter options on the jacuzzi.

"Jon, don't play with your food," Clark scolds - but only after he watched over them fondly and Lois elbowed him in the ribs.

"Sooorry, dad," Jon drawls but he doesn't sound sorry at all. In fact he gives Kon a wink that Tim knows everybody here above the age of ten saw.

"So Tim," Lois begins, propping her elbows on the table and leaning forward with a cat-caught-the-canary grin, "tell me about you and Kon. Clark tells me you live together now. How did you two get together? Spare no detail."

"Well..." Tim thinks about keeping it short, but by the way Kon and Jon start to have a personal food fight of peas and green beans makes him decide on the long story. He'll give them just a little bit longer before he drags Kon away to a child-free zone. That and... If Tim's being honest with himself, this is the first time he's felt like belonging to a family since his dad passed away years ago. His heart throbs both familiarly and longingly at the recognition, and no matter how happy Kon is to be sharing this with Tim, Tim will never be able to describe how thankful he is to Kon for sharing it with him.

-

"Same time next week?" Clark asks after dinner.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Kon says. Tim's heart clenches at the way Kon speaks for them both. They'd been getting more serious lately, but Tim's seen it skyrocket in the few weeks since getting to know Clark's family. "Kara coming?"

"She had a date this week, if you can believe it or not, but she said she'll be here next time."

"Nice," Kon says devilishly. Both Supers wear matching knowing grins.

Clark grins back and rocks on the balls of his feet before sighing and scratching the back of his head. Trained by the Bat himself, Tim knows that's never a good sign. "Say, um, I wanted to ask you something. I know it's a little sudden..."

-

It's not really a surprise when Clark and Lois ask Kon to babysit. What is a surprise is that they ask Kon a ripe ten days after meeting Jon and they ask for Kon to watch him on what has now become his and Tim's weekly date night. If not for the fact that Tim knows Kon really wants to build a connection with Clark and his family, he would have been upset that his boyfriend willingly blew off their date night to babysit. There were things Tim would rather be doing on a Friday night other than fingerpaint and drawing with crayons on construction paper -- namely, said boyfriend.

"It's not so bad," Kon says, bumping Tim in the shoulder. They're sitting on the floor of Clark's house and Kon's hands have dried purple paint caked in his fingernails from earlier. He's toying with green playdough in his hands now, which Tim quickly notices is starting to take on a phallic shape. "Check it out!"

"Oh my god, stop," Tim laughs as they start to roll on the ground. He swats at the playdough dildo Kon tries to shove at his cheek, expertly dodging Kon's immature creation. "What if Jon sees?"

"Sees what?" Jon asks, looking up from where he's drawing Ma and Krypto.

"Before you see what a nerd this guy is." Tim snatches the playdough and hides it behind his back, molding it into a child-appropriate shape. He gently tosses it aside, slow enough that Kon can be impressed with the turtle he shaped, and gives Kon a scolding stare.

"Aww, you're not fun," Kon pouts, but at least he doesn't try to grab the playdough again. Kon crawls on the floor toward Jon, whistling at his drawing. "Hey, that looks just like Krypto!"

"Yeah?" Jon was standoffish at first, but he's warmed up a little, especially around safe topics like Krypto or Ma's pies.

Kon nods but taps to the dog's collar. "Yeah, but where's his cape?"

"I'm drawing it now!" Jon exclaims, stretching for the red crayon Tim accidentally threw on the other side of the room earlier. (It wasn't _Tim's_ fault that Kon was being a dumbass and the closest weapon was a red crayon. Besides, it's not like flinging crayons at Kon's head could actually hurt him, though Jon was far too enthusiastic about helping him throw crayons at Kon.)

Tim watches the duo as Jon curves over his picture on his hands and knees, tongue licking his upper lip in concentration, and Kon leans over Jon to watch his progress. Kon steals the crayon and helps Jon out, and Jon snatches the crayon back and informs Kon that he's doing a bad job of coloring in Krypto's cape. Tim continues laying on the floor and watching them, one elbow propped up for support. Kon and Jon are...cute. Tim's never seen Kon with kids before, but Kon's doing surprisingly well with Jon.

"So how old are you, Jonno?"

"Seven."

Kon feigns surprise. "No way! I thought you were at least ten!"

Even Tim smiles by the way Jon's face lights up in delight when he hears that. It's funny how kids want so badly to grow up and how grown ups wish they could go back to being a kid. It's endearing, almost as endearing as the way Kon ruffles Jon's hair.

"I'm the oldest in my class!"

"You have to be in, what, preschool?"

"I'm a first grader!" Jon continues to describe his school to Kon, who interjects every now and then. ("We have a jungle gym but it's _lame._ " "A lame jungle gym? That's the _worst!_ ") Tim scoots closer just to peek at the drawing he's working on now, a picture of his family. He's drawn a small stick figure between two big ones. It's a decent attempt at Lois and Clark for a seven-year-old, though Lois' stick figure looks nearly exactly alike Clark's.

"You said you're related to my dad, but if you're family, why haven't I met you before?" Kon quietly flinches to that question, obviously sore about the ordeal still. "You can't be my cousin. Mom and Dad don't have any brothers or sisters."

Tim watches warily as Kon begins to fret. "Uh."

"And you look just like dad." Jon stares Kon right in the eye. "Tell me the truth. Are you my big brother?"

Both Kon and Tim start laughing. Jon puffs out his cheeks, obviously not pleased with not being in on the joke. Kon shakes his head and pulls Jon to his chest, giving him a noogie. "That would be pretty great, wouldn't it?"

-

Several hours later, Jon falls asleep between Tim and Kon on the couch while they're watching Dance Moms. They don't notice until Jon starts drooling on Kon's arm, and Tim laughs the entire time as Kon starts freaking out. ("What if he has rabies, Tim!?") After a quick Google search of 'what to do with a sleeping child,' they agree the best thing to do is deposit Jon in his own bed. Kon carefully scoops Jon into his arms and Tim shushes him when Jon begins to stir. Between the two of them, they get Jon up the stairs successfully and tuck him into bed. Tim watches from the doorway to the hall as Kon brushes the hair out of Jon's face.

Seemingly satisfied, Kon hovers over Jon's quietly snoring body as if he doesn't know what to do. Tim's just about to grab his elbow and drag him downstairs so they can lazily make out while watching Masterchef, but Kon leans down and presses a kiss to Jon's forehead. It's only a second but it might as well be forever to Tim, who is still wide eyed and staring when Kon faces him moments later.

"That's what you're supposed to do with kids, right?" Kon shrugs and his face is red. "It wasn't too weird, was it?"

Tim doesn't respond because all he can think about is Kon tucking their yet-to-be-born sleeping children into bed and kissing their foreheads to sleep every night. As it turns out, they only make it to the stairs before Tim pins Kon down and starts biting a hickey into his neck.

-

Lois chases after Tim and Kon after they've said their goodbyes. "Wait! Before you go--"

Kon turns around, Tim already tucked in his arms. They're both a little disgruntled and eager to get home, their make-out session cut short by Lois and Clark's return.

"Looks like Jon wanted you to have this," Lois says breathlessly, offering up a piece of white construction paper. Tim takes it and holds it up for both him and Kon to see. It's the picture Jon drew earlier of three stick figures. Only this time, there's a "To: Kon, From: Jon" in the upper left corner and arrows pointing to the big stick figures saying "bro" and "bro's friend". Tim feels his heart throb, but Kon is the one who sounds impressed.

"Wow, this is great," Kon says, as if he were looking at the most expensive piece of artwork in the world.

"I'll keep it safe," Tim promises, tucking it away safely.

-

Even though it was the one time, Tim starts to notice. He doesn't notice himself noticing until he and Kon are waiting in line in a gas station, waiting to fill up one of the cars they borrowed from Bruce. They've dated long enough that Kon knows how to keep a low profile in public. How to avoid eye contact, how to keep his face hidden from the security cameras, not to make a scene. But Kon can't help himself when the single mother in front of them in line struggles to keep her two children in check. She asks them to hold her place in line as she chases his son, currently trying to steal a doughnut. Her daughter meanwhile spins around in circles until she begins to fall down from dizziness.

"Watch out," Kon warns, holding her up by her little back before she can fall. Tim feels his heart skip.

-

After that, Tim starts noticing how Kon is with children all the time. He notices when Kon kicks back soccer balls to little kids playing in the park. He notices how Kon says hi and 'don't talk to strangers!' to kids to say hello to him on the street. He notices how Kon makes faces at babies whenever they're around.

"What are you looking at?" Kon asks, just after he's waved back to a kid waving at him.

"Nothing," Tim says as he leans in to kiss Kon on the mouth.

-

"Do you think you could watch Jon again this week?" Clark asks hesitantly after the weekly Kent family dinner. Kon and Tim has just collected their coats, about to leave. "Normally I'd ask Sheldon and Christy, but they're getting older and Jon wouldn't stop talking about you two last time..."

Kon scratches the back of his head sheepishly, casting a hesitant glance at Tim. "Well, me and Tim usually have a date night on Fridays..."

Tim shrugs as he finishes zipping up his coat. "We can skip one night for this, Kon."

By the way Kon looks at him, it's obvious he's more reluctant about this change of events than Tim. "If you're sure..."

"Great," Clark sighs satisfactorily. "That settles it then! Thanks a lot."

-

"Remember, no soda after eight and bed time at ten. Be good, boys!" Lois calls as she and Clark close the door behind them. Kon can already hear them happily flirting and giggling together, and when he looks at Tim, he wonders if that will be them some day. Babysitting Jon isn't exactly the worst, but the idea of only getting one day a week to himself and Tim doesn't quite appeal to him. But Jon's a good kid, and Kon doesn't mind seeing him again.

Kon strikes the classic Superboy pose, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest, to assert his dominance. "So, Jonno... Want some soda?"

-

Three hours later, Jon sits between Tim and Kon, after wedging himself between the two. (Again.) He's halfway through his second Snickers bar and should have been in bed thirty minutes ago. Needless to say, Jon is over the moon.

"She's pretty," Jon remarks as Daenerys strides across the screen as if floating, holding herself royally and with her dragons perched on her shoulder.

"That dragon though." Kon holds up his hand in an a-ok gesture, nodding to himself. Tim rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. His incredibly hot, silly boyfriend. "You at least know who she is, right?"

"Nope," Jon replies instantly, popping the 'p' with his lips. Tim shifts in place, only mildly affronted the question is directed to Jon again. Normally he and Kon throw out their predictions or snide comments at each other the entire episode, but watching Game of Thrones with Jon is a completely different experience.

"That's Dany," Kon says, though he's cut off by Tim, who instantly corrects, "Daenerys Targaryen."

"Denise Tagawhat?"

" _Daenerys_ ," Tim corrects Jon -- and, to a lesser extent, Kon, -- enunciating every syllable, " _Targaryen._ "

"What Tim said." Kon bumps a fist on the top of Jon's head and gives him a noogie. "Don't your parents let you watch this show?"

Jon shakes his head exaggeratedly from side-to-side, making Kon's fist bob along with the motion. "They say I'm not old enough, not until I'm fifteen. But my friend Charlie watches it, it's no fair!"

"Charlie sounds like a jerk," Kon agrees. He stretches out an arm and Tim preens, expecting Kon to reach over the back of the couch and scoop Tim's shoulders. His disappointment when Kon scoops Jon and tugs him into his chest would be visible if Kon bothered to look at _him_ and not Jon. He knows it's petty, but Tim crosses his arms.

It's official: watching Game of Thrones reruns with a child and having to explain everything isn't his idea of a Friday night well spent. Yeah, he was the one who agreed in the first place, but he expected more of Kon doing that dad thing that Tim found unexpectedly attractive and less being brushed off in favor of Kon's human-counterpart-offspring.

"If you were in Game of Thrones, you'd be Dany." Tim hears but doesn't respond, assuming that's for Jon again. Kon tugs on his sleeve until Tim looks at him. "You hear, Tim? I said you're my Khaleesi."

Tim eyes Kon out of the corner of his eye because, 'yes, Kon, I _am_ pouting,' but ends up smiling at the open affection written on Kon's face. "Whatever you say, Khal."

Jon obviously doesn't get the reference, and Tim's not about to explain it. Instead, he looks up to Kon and with a chunk of the Snickers bar in his mouth asks, "why, you wanna wake up his dragon?"

Damn Kon, he doesn't splutter like Tim does. No, he just smirks and winks at Tim. "I _love_ waking his dragon."

Tim throws one of the pillow shams at Kon's face.

-

"Higher this time! Higher!" Jon begs, as he clings to Kon and giggles endlessly. Kon has him in a strong grip, held in his arms against his side.

Kon spins them around fast enough that they nearly blur and Jon laughs louder and harder. "Any higher and I'll lose you in the clouds!"

Tim watches them spin and Kon toss Jon into the air from where he's sitting on the porch steps. Even in the dim light and the glow of dingy yellow porch light, he can see their breath puff up in the chilly air and Jon's cheeks, bright red from the thrill of being thrown and free-falling. He sees the moment Kon pushes Jon into the air again. It's higher than last time but still safe enough to catch Jon. When Kon catches him this time, just like the silly dad he would be, he holds Jon up like Simba. It's just a second, but Tim imagines Kon pulling the kid toward his chest and kissing his forehead in the same way he did last time. He could see Kon being a dad. Kon would make a great dad. Kon probably wanted to be a dad.

The scary thing is that Tim could see it; he _wants_ it; he just can't see himself beside Kon, looking down and brushing away their child's bangs with the utmost reverence like Kon was doing to Jon right now. When Tim refocuses on Kon and Jon again, Kon's calling out for Tim to join them as he hurls Jon into the air again.

-

"Bye, Tim!" Jon says too energetically for it to be eleven at night. Clark and Lois shared stiff expressions when they saw their son still up and happily watching the Adult Swim line-up upon their return, but they melted at the sight of Jon stepping on his tiptoes to hug Tim.

Tim pats Jon on the head, feeling more endeared by the small gesture than he'd like to admit. "See you later, Jon."

The boy nods eagerly and turns to Kon. This part is still weird to Kon, the saying bye part, and he fumbles at what to do or say. Jon makes that choice for him, immediately tackling into Kon's waist and squeezing him tight.

"Bye, Kon!" Jon pipes. Tim holds back a laugh as Kon awkwardly bends over to pat the kid's back and eventually kneels down to hug him properly. From the side of his eye, Tim sees Clark nodding approvingly and Lois smiling gently at the half-Kryptonians, Clark's hand squeezing her shoulder with he has his arm wrapped around his wife. Tim also feels a warmth settle in chest, but he tries not to acknowledge it.

"I've always wanted a big brother," Jon breathes, thinking it quiet, but Tim and Lois don't need Super hearing to know what he's said.

"Always wanted a little bro," Kon teases back a little shakily, squeezing Jon so hard they bump cheek-to-cheek.

Jon runs back to Lois as Clark steps forward to see Tim and Kon to the door. Tim elbows Kon with a, "cute," and Kon blushes deeply. "Shaddup."

"Thanks again," Clark says, now leaning against the door frame.

"No problem. Oh, but Jon had, like, three sodas and a bowlful of candy, have fun," Kon says, patting Clark on the shoulder. Tim's already done the smart thing and disappeared into the night like the freaky bat he is, leaving Kon to suffer the death glare Lois and Clark give him all alone.

-

"Hold, please," Kori says, waiting for Kon to take her newborn into arm before blasting off to greet Dick. Here Tim thought putting Kori and Dick in the same room after Kori had a child with another man would be the _most_ awkward event in the history of the multiverse, but they're surprisingly amicable.

"Sure, no prob," Kon grumbles as she leaves him with the baby tucked into his arm. He sighs but looks at the bundle in his arms, smile beginning to quirk. "Check it out, Tim. She has Kori's dimples."

Tim's wary; he's never much liked children, especially _drooling_ children, but seeing Kon look down at a baby swaddled in blankets is pleasant enough, just because of Kon. Tim watches curiously as Kon bounces the baby and talks to her. It's entirely objective when Tim says, "she's cute," though he's referring to Kon more than the slobbery baby.

"Totally," Kon agrees idly. He's too busy sticking out his tongue and laughing at the baby's wide eyes to bother listening, which is just as well to Tim, who is too focused on Kon with quiet interest to say anything more. "Totally. Hey, let me grab your cape."

"Why do you need my cape? What are you--?"

"Where'd Tim go?" Kon gasps. Tim's head is completely covered by his cape, which he's _sure_ looks ridiculous.

"Kon..." he nearly growls.

"Peek-a-boo! There he is!" Kon lifts the cape up and Tim's glaring through his cowl, though Kon pays it no heed. His attention is fixed on the laughing baby. "Dude! You're right. She's totally cute."

Tim merely sighs. This time when Kon lifts Tim's cape, he covers himself, and Tim indulges Kon in at the baby girl's eyes sparkle a pretty green like her mother's when Kon reveals himself. "Peek-a-boo! I see you!"

Tim feels something in his chest stir, but he tugs at his cape so that he doesn't have to dwell on it. "Okay, cut it out now."

It's perfect timing, since Starfire is back. "She speaks," Kori informs while collecting her bundle of joy, "And she laughs because it is close to the Tamaranean phrase for, 'I am an idiot.'"

Tim tries to stop himself, but he busts out laughing.

-

To be perfectly honest, Tim's surprised that Clark asks them to babysit a third time. He has half a mind to say no at the weekly Kent dinner, remembering the lecture he'd gotten from Bruce about being a responsible adult and respecting the wishes of parents (as if Bruce of all people could lecture him about _that_ ). But then Tim looks at Kon and Kon doesn't even have to say anything. He just flashes those puppy eyes that say, 'please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top?' It makes Tim want to grind his teeth and put his foot down. But Kon's cheeks go _pink_ and the worst part is that Tim knows Kon isn't even lying because he's not that good of a liar. -- At least not when he's lying to Tim.

"Yeah, I'll clear out my schedule," Tim says in his minimizing-the-situation voice, one Kon knows well. "It's not that big of a deal to change a reservation at Forno, you just have to book it three months in advance."

"Great!" Kon and Clark cheer in unison, not quite grasping Tim's sarcasm.

-

The damnest things comes out of kid's mouths. Rationally, Tim knows this. But when he hears Jon ask, "Hey, Kon? Do you have a girlfriend?" the next time the three of them are alone, he gapes at Kon helplessly. With anybody else, he'd know exactly how to handle this. They've been together so long that they've handled pretty much every coming out situation from the pretty to the ugly, and now Tim is mentally kicking himself for never having a serious conversation about when and how they should come out to Jon.

Tim looks up at Kon with the widest eyes, for once, lost and without a plan. Kon's gone up against Superboy Prime, and not even that was scarier than this moment. For all the fear that must be seizing Kon, he winks at Tim.

"You don't know? You've met my partner already."

"Whaaat?" Jon's face opens visibly and he drops the crayons he was coloring with, drawing forgotten. "Who is it? Who? Who!?"

"Tim," Kon says proudly, wrapping an arm around Tim's shoulders. Tim inhales sharply and holds his breath, bracing himself for the worst.

Jon tilts his head when he sizes Tim up, as if for the first time, and when his eyes trail down and up, back to Tim's eyes where he started his scrutinizing, Jon smiles. Tim thinks they're out of the woods until Jon laughs, "but he's a boy!"

There it is. They've been called every slur from A to Z, but none of them have hurt quite as much as those four little words. They've handled every coming out from Ma, their fellow Titans, virtually everybody in the superhero community – maybe not Booster Gold, but they're pretty sure he knows anyway, all considering – and, as of late, the media, but nothing is quite as daunting as explaining it to Jon. Kon squeezes Tim's shoulders comfortingly and his eyes seem to say, 'trust me.' Tim does, with all his heart.

Kon, seeming to process this better than Tim, hums and takes Jon's abandoned crayons into hand. "Okay, so. You've seen those Disney movies, right? The ones with all the princesses? Like Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella?"

"Yeah, but they're boooring!" Jon insists, watching Kon sketch out three pairs of stick figures.

"But you know of them. That's good. So usually it's the prince that saves the princess, right?" He taps on the first couple, a poorly drawn stick figure couple of a man and a woman. Tim would argue against the hetero- and cis-normative display of assuming a triangle represents a dress or is reserved for women, but that's a conversation they can have with Jon when he's older. Maybe when he's nine or ten. "Well sometimes a princess saves another princess, and sometimes the royalty don't like being called princesses or princes at all" Kon explains, tapping the crayon against the next two couples, one couple both with triangles and the next with half a triangle on stick figure and an indiscernible silhouette on the other stick figure. Kon draws a single stick figure, pointing to it next. "And sometimes the princess doesn't need saving because she don't need no man. You've seen Brave right?"

"I've seen it," Jon confirms, looking at the stick figures with a scrunched up face.

"Yeah see, that's like me and Tim. We're the second couple, except with two princes. Tim's my prince." Tim bites his bottom lip to keep from wobbling as Kon's eyes well up until they look glassy. "And me and Tim are going to live happily ever after."

"Oh... I think I get it," is all Jon says. Then he scrunches his face and tilts his head to the side, the perfect picture of confusion. "I like Tim. You two aren't all smoochy and stuff, not like mom or dad."

"We can be smoochy," Kon assures as Tim laughs. He puckers up his lips exaggeratedly and starts mock kissing at Tim, who does the same at Kon. "We can be _very_ smoochy!"

"Eugh!" Jon fake gags -- or rather, genuinely gags. "Gross. I liked you both way better when you weren't all kissy kissy!"

Jon goes back to drawing dragons and centaurs as Tim falls relaxed against Kon. He can feel Kon's racing heart begin to even out. "Wow, maybe I should start letting you explain our relationship to the news."

"No way," Kon says with a snort. "But you hear me? Happily ever after."

"Happily ever after," Tim promises, kissing Kon chastely on the mouth. Jon looks up, blinks, and returns to his drawing, pretending he didn't see that because kissing was _gross_. He makes a vow never to do it in his life.

-

"Tim move," Jon says. Before coming out, that meant Tim had to scoot toward the arm of the couch so Jon could wedge himself between them. Now, it means Tim needs to spread his legs so Jon can sit between them. Jon crawls on top of Tim, planting himself between Tim's legs so the three of them can snuggle together, the back of his head weighs gently against Tim's shoulder. Kon fakes a yawn to wrap an arm around Tim -- and why he continues to do that even though they've been dating for years is beyond Tim, though he'll never find it less endearing. Tim leans his weight into Kon and mimics Jon, resting his head against Kon's shoulder, and Kon rests his on top of Tim's as his fingertips play with Tim's sleeve and Jon snuggles closer to Kon. Tim's not sure how to describe the feeling other than 'right.'

-

"Okay, that's it, no more stories," Kon says, pulling the book out of Tim's hands and slamming it shut. He lets it drop on Jon's dresser. "Time for sleep, Jonno."

"One more!" the kid says groggily, slurring his words.

Kon shakes his head, smiling. "You said that two stories ago!"

"And besides," Tim says, leaning over Jon, "it looks like you'll fall asleep before we finish another."

Jon whines but stubbornly holds out his hand. He's already yawning. "Okay, but stay with me until I fall asleep."

Kon takes Jon's little hand into his own and Tim assures himself he's not jealous. He and Jon aren't family, no matter how close they are. Tim helps Kon tuck Jon into bed and watches as Jon's firm hold goes limp in Kon's hand. Kon brushes Jon's bangs out of his face, watching with such seriousness that Tim looks away to give them some privacy. He hears Kon whisper the words, 'vow,' 'brother,' and 'protect' and feels something indescribable seize up in his throat.

Kon stands up after a moment of silence and ushers Tim out of the room. His stiff grip on the small of Tim's back doesn't go unnoticed. "Kon..."

"It's just--" He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "It's not the same as Clark and Ma. To him, we _are_ family. He doesn't know me as anything else."

"You're as much family as he is," Tim breathes seriously, loud enough that only Kon can hear. That's when Kon scoops Tim into his arms and doesn't let go. He doesn't cry, but he squeezes Tim so hard that Tim can tell he wants to.

-

Tim's rushing to pick up a pizza before Kon picks him up when he stops dead in his tracks. He's passed by this place hundreds -- no, thousands -- of times, both as Tim Drake-Wayne and as Robin of both the Batman and Red varieties. Thousands of times he's ran by or walked by or swung by without batting an eye, but right now he can't stop staring at the nursery set in a display case. It's lilac purple with a dark-stained oak cradle and a matching rocking chair, overflowing with baby items piled high on it. There's a stuffed animal in the cradle that Tim can imagine a child with dark hair and bright blue eyes holding to its chest, donned with a shield, while snoring gently.

Tim shakes his head and forces himself to move away from the display. Sure, Jon is cute and it's hard not to want a baby after babysitting him these past few weeks and seeing the joys of having a young child, but Tim and Kon are young. They're both barely twenty-one and _yeah_ , Tim might have the money to settle down already thanks to a certain name that begins with 'W' and ends in 'ayne,' but it's not the right time. And _sure_ , there are couples out there who get pregnant, intentionally or not, and start families after one-night stands or barely knowing each other, but he and Kon aren't that kind of couple. Still, Tim finds a hard time rationalizing why he and Kon _shouldn't_ have a baby, but he chalks it up to a one-time thing.

-

Except that's not the end of it.

"My toof's looth!" Jon pipes, opening his mouth and wiggling his left canine with his tongue for Tim and Kon to see. He can push it nearly entirely out of his mouth, but the tooth remains stubbornly tied to the root. It's times like now that Tim's glad for the years of training with Bruce. No Gotham bad guy is quite as scary or gruesome as a seven-year-old boy.

"Gross," Kon says but he laughs as if it's anything _but_. He leans so his hands rest on his knees to get a better look at it, smiling all the while. " _Dude_. That's really close to coming out. Don't you want to pull it out?"

"Thried." Jon sighs loudly. "Mom couldn' get i' ou'."

"Let me try," Kon insists, shoving thick fingers into Jon's mouth and wiggling around for his loose tooth. "Moms are great but they're no Superboy. Brace yourself!"

"Thupe'?" Jon asks curiously as Kon grunts. Tim's never seen Kon struggle with anything in his life, but here he is, struggling with a child's tooth. The picture is almost too funny for Tim, but he refrains from laughing or taking a video and posting it to his Red Robin Instagram. -- Okay, he can't really resist recording ten seconds of Kon huffing and puffing to get a child's tooth out and that _definitely_ goes on Snapchat, but Tim is careful to blur Jon's face out as he watches Kon glare angrily at the young boy's mouth. ('Saved to memories!' Tim thinks internally as he smiles to himself at the footage.)

"Guess the only rival to super strength is a super tooth," Tim jokes, pocketing his phone. Kon glares at him, just a hint of red around the edges of his eyes. Tim raises one brow in the way he's done for so many years and instantly Kon's silenced, red fading back into something that appears more human.

"Get i' ou'! Get i' ou'!" Jon whines while stamping his foot up and down.

"Kon, let me-"

"I _got_ it, Tim! Just let me think!" Kon glares as his eyes dart from side-to-side nearly at blurring speed. Three seconds later, he pounds his fist into an open palm. "I know just the trick! I saw this on Youtube."

"No," Tim says immediately. He crosses his arms and when Kon looks to him for approval, Tim repeats, " _No._ "

"C'mon, Tim, just look at him! See how sad he is?"

Kon holds his arm out for Jon to fall into it as though they rehearsed the scene. Jon fakes the biggest mock frown and Tim rolls his eyes at the over-the-top expressions of them both. "Make it quick."

As it turns out, Kon's bright idea is to tie floss to Jon's tooth and a doorknob. Tim has a bad feeling from the start, but when Kon starts to tie dental floss to Jon's tooth, Tim starts to grimace. "Kon, maybe we should rethink this..."

"It's _fine_ , Tim," Kon assures, pulling the floss out to the open door. After securing it, Kon tells Jon to brace himself. "On the count of three, Jonno! One... Two--"

Kon slams the door shut before he reaches three and Jon screams loudly. It's so quick, so sudden that Tim expects Kon's ridiculous plan brought unexpected success. He doesn't hear the loud crunch, and only find broken floss, the long strip attached to the knob and the short end to Jon's tooth, when he dashes toward Jon. He's by Jon's side faster than Kon, who remains glued in place by the door knob. When Kon releases the knob, it's mangled and dented in the shape of his hand.

"Why'd you scream!?" Kon asks, no sooner than checking Jon over.

"You sai' three!" Jon cries, immediately clinging to Tim. Tim rubs his heaving back and glares over Jon's shoulder at Kon's slightly guilty face. The color's drained from his face and his mouth is pinched tight, but it's not good enough. It's a good start to apologetic, but Kon has a long way to go if he wants to convince Tim to forgive him.

"I got you," Tim assures, albeit somewhat awkwardly. He's not used to...this. Comforting, being the source of comfort. At least not in this way. It's strange to comfort a small body, so dependent and clutching onto his chest, but he wraps his arms around Jon and lifts him up, carrying him around for the next five minutes. It takes twenty minutes for Jon to calm down and stop crying, and it takes another thirty before Kon has given up tying dental floss to every obscure force he can find ("Kon, _no_ , the toy helicopter didn't work, the car didn't work, tying floss to your ankle _and flying_ is not going to work!"), but Tim has a plan.

"How about a snack?" Tim asks, leading Jon to the kitchen by the hand. Jon sniffles and nods tearfully. Tim casts a final glance at Kon. "None for you, Superboy."

Following them with a guilty slump, Kon remains quiet and obedient, clearly deferring authority to Tim. His boyfriend rubs clean three apples -- all of them fresh from Ma's orchard -- and hands the first polished red apple to Jon. Tim takes a big bite out of his, flaunting the spare apple in front of Kon, as Jon matches his bite. He chews his mouthful thoughtfully, tilting his head flirtily before throwing the last apple to Kon, who takes a loud, crunchy bite so hard that the apple juice runs down his chin. Kon licks it clean, keeping eye contact with Tim all the meanwhile. That just won't do, but luckily he doesn't have to wait long for another distraction. One look at Jon and Kon screams. " _Dude!_ "

"My toof!" Jon squeals, holding up the apple with his loose tooth now embedded in it. "Lookie Thim!"

Jon looking up at Tim with a smiling face and blood gushing out from where his missing tooth once is one of the mildest yet by far one of the grossest things Tim has ever seen. And yet, in that moment he can't help but wish Jon was his and Kon's child so that they could be sharing this moment together as a family.

-

"How'd you know that'd work?" Kon asks later, eyes wide and trained on Tim. It's dark but Tim can see the whites of Kon's eyes even in the darkness, a fact Tim's hyper-conscious of as Kon slides a palm up Tim's chest.

Tim holds back a smug smirk, but his lips curl back, revealing just a hint that betrays his true feelings. Even if he hoped it was dark enough to hide his expression, it's no use with Kon's natural abilities. "How'd I know what would work?"

"The apple thing." Kon pushes at Tim's shoulders, a small 'tell me!'

"Seriously?" When Kon doesn't show any signs of moving or knowing, Tim sighs and sits up. He leans over Kon so that his eyes hover directly over Kon's. "How do you channel your super strength?"

"I don't know," Kon confesses. His eyes dart toward the wall as he thinks until Tim reaches out and brushes the bangs out of his face. Kon's gaze returns to his, the line of his lips softening somewhat. "It's just there. I concentrate, I guess?"

"Exactly. And what do you think a little boy with a loose tooth is going to concentrate on when you tell him you're going to pull his tooth out?"

"Oh my god, Tim, you're a genius!" Kon exclaims, sitting up as well. They're maybe an inch apart, eyes wide and chests tight with breath, but Tim shrugs with that self-conscious smile he wears whenever Kon praises him too highly. "You're going to make a great dad."

"Me?" Tim thinks about it for a total of two seconds. Kon? Yes. Kon is going to make a great father someday. Every day Tim sees firsthand how gentle Kon can be, knows what a soft soul he has, and rolls his eyes at Kon's immaturity, which is just the right amount for fatherhood. Tim has seen Kon with both kids on the street and with Jon, and he has no doubt that Kon will crack dad jokes or try to convince his children that his middle name is Danger. Tim doesn't feature in his fantasies involving Kon and fatherhood. In his fantasies, it's always Kon who is a dad and Tim is on the periphery, if there at all. He's not like Kon; he doesn't like messes, repeating himself five times, or worrying about curfews.

"Yeah," Kon says, licking along Tim's ear. "You knew how to deal with a meta kid, imagine what you could do with a human. You were so smart and sexy back there. If you could put a freaky clone baby in me, I'd be begging for it right now."

"Well," Tim starts, pushing Kon down and liking the way Kon's thighs wrap around his waist. "Just because I can't doesn't mean I can't try."

-

As soon as Lois and Clark leave, Jon runs up to Tim and Kon, his little fists balled up and pumping in excitement. They both wonder what's got Jon so riled up before he chirps, "teach me out to fly!"

"How did you--?" Kon forces out before the rest of his breath leaves him as though the wind was knocked out of him. Tim's silent as Kon continues to gape at Jon for the next several seconds. Tim's shoulders begin shaking and it's only by sheer force that he will himself not to laugh out loud, full bellied and mouth wide.

"You said so last time!" Jon points out this fact by rubbing his tongue along the empty spot where his loose tooth once was. When that explanation fails to make sense any more sense to Kon, Jon crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "Dude, I figured it out the first time. But I didn't _really_ know until the second time. How many people look exactly like Superman? And then you kept throwing me up and down, remember?"

He stops shaking at that, immediately going tense at Jon's astute deduction. Kon shoots one 'how could this slip past _you?_ ' look, and Tim's mouth goes taut. Calculating, Kon realizes by the slant of Tim's eye, but it relaxes nearly immediately. After a longer pause with no response, Jon sighs so loudly his cheeks puff up and flush a shade of angry pink. "Stop lying to me. I know it's true! Nobody tells me _anything!_ Everybody keeps treating me like a-- like a..."

"Kid," Tim finishes for him. He locks eyes with Kon and nods. "Do it."

After years together, Kon knows better than to question when Tim decides it's best to reveal their identities. If not for being relaxed and comfortable with Jon, maybe they wouldn't have revealed-- No, that isn't it, Kon realizes, as he begins unbuttoning his shirt. Being slack and revealing Kon's abilities had been a part of Tim's plan before they even babysat Jon that first time. Everything makes perfect sense as Kon holds his flannel shirt open, exposing a red symbol of hope on black cotton.

" _Whoa_ ," is all Jon says, eyes completely transfixed on the proof, "your superhero costume is _so_ lame."

"You try being a superhero," Tim says defensively. Kon snaps his attention to Tim, who after years and years of making fun of his costume, finally, _finally_ defends it.

" _Tim_ ," Kon drawls in a completely enamored tone, but Jon speaks over him: "Maybe I will!"

"Without even knowing how to fly?" Tim puts both hands on his hips and leans forward, towering over the young boy just slightly. "Do you even have freeze breath? Heat vision? X-ray vision?"

"N-No, I..."

Tim gives the slightest. "Go on, Kon, show him."

"Which first?" is all Kon asks, smirking, and Jon's eyes go wide.

-

Freezing trees in icicles. Melting them into puddles of water and wilting wood. Guessing what pattern underwear Jon's wearing. Kon's done it all by the end of the night. There's still steam of pink smoke seeping out of his eyes when Kon slumps tiredly against Tim on the porch. Jon's beside Tim, watching them both with awe. It hasn't slipped Tim that even impressing Jon has made Kon work up a sweat, and he files that information away for his own personal database.

"Impressed yet?" Tim asks, guessing correctly that Kon's done for the night. He's already leaning his smiling cheeks against Tim's shoulder and lacing their fingers together. He gives Tim's hand a little squeeze as Jon pumps his fists in the air. They clench there for a moment before Jon seems to catch himself and looks away, as though uninterested.

"It wasn't _that_ cool," he insists, and Tim feels his mouth twitch by how similar it is to Damian. Maybe it was a kid thing? "My heat vision and powers are gonna be way cooler!"

"You wish," Kon snorts, poking a fingertip to the porch. With his TTK, he tugs Jon's hood and jerks it back, the kid choking with surprised delight. "Tact--"

"-- _ile telekinesis,_ " Jon finishes with him. "I know! You only say that, like, _all the time_. I Googled you. By the way, your hair was so lame."

Kon huffs before Tim teasingly punches him, no doubt for the old memories that they'd share with Jon someday.

"My hair was _cool!_ And so is my TTK!" Kon insists gruffly, "and not even _you_ have it. I'm one of a kind."

This time it's Tim squeezing Kon's hand for reassurance, even though Kon sounds proud.

"I'll just develop something cooler!" Jon puffs out his chest as though he were already assured in his powers, but he deflates when he looks at time.

"No," Tim backs Kon up, looking into his boyfriend's eyes, "Kon's definitely one of a kind."

-

"We have to tell Clark," Kon says later that night, voice tight with worry. Tim could only imagine how much it would take for _Kon_ to worry about this. He could already see the cogs working in Kon's head, which, although Tim used to tease weren't up to task, now gave his chosen companion more credit.

Tim lazily rolls on his side to face Kon and smiles easily. He rubs Kon's chest as a comforting gesture, leaning in to kiss at the worried bend of Kon's lip. "He already told Jon. You think he would let us near him if there was a chance of us spilling the beans?"

"I wouldn't spill them!" Kon insists immediately, blushing. It takes longer for the full meaning to sink in, but once it does, Kon's face shifts into an entirely new kind of shock. "So the thing today with Jon...?"

"You remember what he said? He said you looked like _Superman,_ " Tim points out in an even voice. "If he didn't know already, he would have said something like, 'my dad.''"

Kon contemplates it for a short while, looking away from Tim long enough to sort out any misgiving feelings himself.

"I can't believe Clark told you," he admits in a strained tone. Tim doesn't have to ask to know Kon's peeved by the prospect of Clark sharing information with Tim and not himself. For all intents and purposes, they _were_ family. There was no doubt in Tim's mind that Clark's decision to disappear for the sake of his son was similar to the way Clark had initially given Kon the cold shoulder. Clark was welcoming Kon back into his life like he'd attempted years ago, and it wasn't as if they'd gotten as close as Kon had hoped before Clark decided to go rogue.

"He didn't tell me," Tim assures, careful not to phrase it as 'he didn't _have_ to tell me,' and he pats Kon's chest again. "I just figured it out myself. I don't think he told Jon about us, or else Jon wouldn't have been so surprised."

"Wow." It's not more than a puff of breath and Kon smiles widely, leaning in to kiss Tim. Tim notices that it's a bit more intense than usual tonight, and for a moment he entertains the thought that maybe Kon is just into this pseudo-parenting thing as Tim is. "Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but your big, ol' brain is _so_ sexy sometimes."

Tim bites his lip and attempts not to blush, but he knows Kon can hear the rush of blood that begins to pump at Kon's easy wooing. Kon smirks -- easy confirmation that _yes_ , he did hear his heart start pumping at twice its normal speed -- and Tim tries to bite down his smile. "Oh yeah? Why don't you how sexy you think it is?"

-

"I want to learn how to use ice breath!" Jon demands, crossing his arms, the next time Tim and Kon agree to babysit.

Kon gapes, lost, but luckily Tim's one who is very well acquainted with discipline. He mirrors Jon's position, appearing more imposing for the mere sake of being larger. "No. Homework first, and _then_ we'll consider it."

Jon's reaction is obviously unused to this kind of treatment, his muscles lax with shock and his eyes wide, and even Kon looks decently surprised by Tim's reaction. "But... I..."

Tim can't help but smile at this part. It's not really a surprise that Jon is spoiled, considering his parents, the Kents, the Supers, and _Kon_ . Despite his good intentions, there was nothing more that Kon wanted than to make the people he loved _feel_ loved. It was a difficult concept for Tim but obviously for Jon, who may be facing his first "no.”

"Tim, you don't really mean--"

"I do," Tim says, tone final, as he walks into the cabin. He grabs Jon's backpack off the chair Jon always throws it on in the living room, and Jon and Kon release matching groans. Apparently prioritizing powers over brainwork isn't the only trait that runs in the family. Now _this_ is the part Tim gets a secret thrill out of. He looks over his shoulder, smirking at his boyfriend. "Don't think you're out of this either, Superboy."

" _Me?_ I don't even go to school anymore!" Kon wails.

Ten minutes later, Tim sits at the Kent dinner table, Jon's math book split open, and Kon groans at the laptop Tim brought with their taxes to file on it. Tim has his own small device propped where he sits at the head of the table, with either of them at his side, and he looks up occasionally when he hears the classic Supergroan of Intellectual Frustration.

Before Tim can scold either of them, Kon shoves the laptop away and takes Jon's hand into his own. "I know you hate this part, but you gotta do it."

"Don't wanna," Jon grumbles miserably.

"Trust me, I didn't like it any better," Kon says.

To that, Tim snorts, "That part's true. You should have seen him whine about history homework."

Jon rolls his eyes and Tim expects to see a similar look on Kon's face, one from the depths of his memory, when Kon used to groan at the thought of even doing his homework in Titans Tower. Instead Kon grabs at Jon's textbook, stares for a good minute at it, and grins excitedly as he slides it back. "This is tough stuff, little man! Multiplication is a bitc-- A very bad math! Look, just carry the one over to the tens column like this."

Kon demonstrates for Jon and Tim pretends not to watch over the work he's doing for Bruce, but it's hard not to be distracted by Kon's gentle directions and Jon's intrigued noises of understanding.

"Actually it's easier this way," Tim butts in, presenting his palm for the pen. Kon instinctively hands it over and Tim models the line method for the two, something he's taught Kon in the past. He's so wrapped up in demonstrating that it entirely escapes him how Kon rests his chin against his hand and watches Tim teach Jon how to multiply.

"You make this _way_ easier than my teacher," Jon says after a moment of baited breath, surprised.

Kon grins over the laptop. "Oh yeah, Tim's way better than the Turbo Tax tutorial!"

Tim rolls his eyes but can't help but feel warm, smiling as he looks between the two Kents. Sitting at the Kent table, all working on their respective tasks and sharing in the misery of work, it almost feels...domestic.

-

As it turns out, Kon _does_ teach Jon how to fly. Clark and Lois sternly look at the trio with their heads bowed down in shame, all of them with twigs and branches in their hair, and Tim cringes when Kon points at Jon and says, "he started it!"

-

"So... are you a superhero too?" Jon asks Tim as they all sit on the floor playing Candy Land. They'd been playing Chutes and Ladders earlier until a particularly devastating loss of Kon falling down a chute made everybody unanimously agree the game should not be played anymore.

Tim freezes in the middle of moving his candy figure. He can't help but wonder what it was that tipped Jon off. Tim's never turned to Kon for permission or advice on whether or not to reveal his identity, but he turns to Kon, who gives him a smirk and a nod as if to say, 'what are you waiting for?'

"I'm Red Robin." The confession sits warmly in his chest. Tim is...still not used to saying it as a thing of pride. It's not like Bats reveal to others their true identity in the same way that Supers do. Most of those he came out to as Robin had already guessed that he was Red Robin, so it was unnecessary. Jon must be among one of the few for whom this is a complete surprise. And Jon...his face is open, eyes wide, gaping without words.

"Looks like you have a fan," Kon teases as he brushes a wave of his TTK across Tim's arms. He's smiling at Tim from across the board like Tim is the coolest person he knows, and it makes his insides feel both tight with anxiety and warmly gooey in that way that reassures Tim he's in love to think Kon thinks of him so highly.

"Can it." Tim playfully shoves at his boyfriend's invisible touch. But it doesn't change the fact that Jon is right there, looking at Tim like something admirable, _heroic_ .

"I guessed about Superboy, but you... You're _really_ Red Robin?" Jon asks, in that tone that demands no joking.

"I'm really Red Robin," Tim admits. He tries not to shiver when he feels a barely-there kiss to his shoulder, but Kon isn't subtle about leaning in. "The one and only."

"I should know!" Kon pipes proudly. He's far prouder of Tim's superheroing than Tim is, apparently. In truth, Tim's not really sure how to deal with the attention. Working with Batman, protecting one's alias was always the most important thing. He's not used to telling people or watching them react...so enthusiastically.

"That's _so_ cool!" Jon gushes, eyes alight with enthusiasm. "You're Superboy and Red Robin! That's like being Superman and Batman!"

"World's finest," Kon jokes easily, and there's no way that Tim can ever admit how much he likes the sound of that, even though the thought of becoming Batman terrified him. Tim had never wanted the Batman mantle. Even during his Robin days, he knew that the title was meant for somebody else, but that his destiny was elsewhere. At the time it had meant living a normal life with his family, later it meant that he'd live up to a mantle on his own terms, and now… Now Tim was thinking that it was back to his original desire: to live a normal life with a family; and maybe, just maybe, that family would be with Kon.

Kon's TTK brushes over his cheek when he catches Time zoning out and the boy winks, mouthing, 'love you.' Tim's instinct is to look away but he smiles back, mouthing back, 'love you too,' and this time Kon's the one to look away with a blush.

"Is that going to be me some day?" Jon asks in a quiet, nearly choked voice, tight with hope and something scared.

Despite Jon's awe, Tim couldn't help but imagine Jon all grown up with Damian by his side, three times bigger than the angry ten-year-old he knew and thrice as surly as well. Now _there_ was a mental image Tim didn't need, and just to be spiteful, he imagines Damian bald. He smirks to himself, trying not to let his amusement show.

"Oh trust me, you _don't_ want that," Tim hears somebody say, and he's only surprised that it's Kon saying it and not himself. "Future Batman is a dick."

'Literally,' Tim thinks to himself, considering how badly Damian might take it if Nightwing stepped into the mantle again. In any case, no matter how hard Tim thought of the Batman of the future, it was never himself.

"Maybe you'll team up someday," Tim tries to reason, but he doesn't finish his sentences before a cackle lets loose. Tim can see it now: Damian glaring at a kid three years younger and ten times stronger than him. Right, like _that_ would ever happen.

Tim stops his premature laughter with a yelp when he feels a pinch in his side. Even though he glares at Kon, Kon's already waving his hand dismissively at Jon's worry-stitched face. "Batman and Superman are overrated anyway. Robin and Superboy are the _real_ World's Finest."

That seems to alleviate the worry wrinkles from Jon's face and he watches them both, obviously shocked, but a smile is growing on his face. Tim tries to imagine what it must be like to experience something so magical, but he thinks he has some ideas. " _Wow._ "

-

Tim's frustrated. But he's also assuming that's because he's feeling sentimental. There's no reason why-- He shouldn't-- "You okay, Tim?"

Tim stiffens with the realization he's been squirming the entire time, and nods. Normally he had better control of his body than to lose control of it like that. He snuggles back against Kon with a quick huff. "Fine. Just-- I'm frustrated."

"Me too, man. I always get mad watching this part! It's like, how did his parents _not_ noticed they left a kid behind?" Tim blushes, if only because his boyfriend is admitting that watching Home Alone stresses him out too. It's silly and _so Kon_ , and it makes melting into him that much easier for Tim. Kon snakes an arm around his shoulders to ruffle his hair, and Tim whispers, "feels nice," under his breath. Kon kisses the top of his head and continues to card his fingers through Tim's hair comfortingly. "Look at you, getting all sentimental!"

Tim merely hums a, "hmm," because that's the thing: he's _not_ sentimental. Not in the way Kon is. He's never felt anything other than dumbfounded humor by this illogical scene, but right now, it feels a little harder to breath. Tim focuses on the movie and the way Kon's chest heaves up and down with every breath, and he reaches for the popcorn.

-

"Got a gift for you, Jonno," Kon says, holding up a package wrapped in tape and Christmas paper. Not even Tim knows what it is, though he suspects it's a sweater given from how soft it was when he probed it earlier. ("C'mon, Tim, you know the rules! No peeking!")

"It's July," Jon points out even though he readily accepts the package and starts shaking it.

Kon laughs and takes a step back, where Tim's arm is already waiting to rest against the small of his back. "Christmas in July, duh!"

It's a silly concept and who _actually_ celebrates Christmas in July? (Not that Tim minded the movie choices lately; he was _always_ up for Elf or singing along with Kon to the Nightmare Before Christmas.) But Tim wasn't complaining, not when Kon had woken Tim up wearing only a ribbon around his waist like a thong and urging Tim to unwrap his gift. ("Okay, but here's your real gift," Kon said breathlessly, whining only a little at his sore waist when he leaned over to the nightstand and pulled a small velvet box for Tim. Tim let out a sob at the mere sight of the silver band, and he was silently crying when Kon slipped it onto his finger. "Uh, do you not like it?" Kon had asked in that nervous tone only Tim could make him use. Tim shook his head from side-to-side and leaned in to kiss his Superfiancé. "I _love_ it.")

No matter how ridiculous it is, there was one thing children loved more than anything else and that was surprise presents. Jon snatches the package from Kon's hands and even Tim smiles at the way Jon shakes the package against his ear to hear for any rattling.

Tim's only surprise is that Jon doesn't immediately see through the wrapping. As if reading his mind, Kon leans toward Tim and whispers, "used your special lead wrapping paper on the inside."

Tim practically preens and the thought of a litter of Superkids running down on Christmas day and whining at the inability to see through the gifts flashes through his mind. It makes Tim smile but not as much as the sight of Jon ripping through the soft present.

"Seriously?" Jon gasps and Tim has half a mind to ask Kon the same thing. Tim looks up to Kon, suddenly tense.

"It's all yours." Tim's known Kon long enough to know when his tone is sincere and when he's faking, and this, concerningly, is both. "Go on, try it on."

Jon doesn't hesitate before throwing away the wrapping and billowing out the fabric. Tim didn't need to see more than the yellow and red shield on the front to know what it was. His tone is bitter when he says, "not red and black."

It's different than Kon's simple t-shirt and jeans, and Tim wonders if Jon's comment about Kon's costume had an effect on the design. There's a cape on the back and it zips up in the front. It's certainly...different. Tim wonders if Kon felt a similar twist and knot in his stomach when Tim changed costumes.

"Stop frowning, babe. You're raining on his parade," Kon whispers, wrapping an arm around Tim's waist and squeezing him back. "Besides, you know those are _our_ colors."

-

"Are you serious?" Tim asks, watching Krypto chase Jon through a cloud. Jon is mostly a flash of bright blue against the pale sky, but there's also a blur of red from his cape. It's definitely not a sight that Tim associates with 'Superboy,' though Kon had bestowed the title along with the jacket.

"Hm?" Tim wonders if Kon is being obstinately dense, though he supposes not by the way Kon sleepily noses at Tim's neck. If he was being intentional, there would be a lot more lip action on his neck right about now.

Tim's lips thin out and he grinds out: "About Superboy."

Tim feels Kon shrug against his body from where they're slumped against each other on the Kent porch, and next he feels an underturned curve of Kon's lips against the spot on his neck. "Yeah. Mostly. I talked to Clark about it, you know? There's no way I was going to hand it over and get Jon's hopes up without at least running it by him first."

"So what, you're quitting?" Tim snaps. His only saving grace is that Jon's superhearing hasn't developed, and so Jon continues to chase Krypto through the sky -- though the dog pauses long enough to perk his ears up in Tim's direction, apparently whining loud enough that Kon thinks it's important enough to whisper that fact against Tim's neck.

Immediately Tim feels Kon tense beside him but instead of lashing out at Tim like Kon might have years ago, he places his palm on Tim's thigh and strokes it up and down his leg, giving a pat on his knee. "Calm down. I'm not giving everything up. I just-- It's about time I grew up, don't you think? I mean, we're _getting married_ , for crying out loud! Besides, you've moved on from Robin, and I'm getting too old to be called Super _boy_ ."

"Yeah, Superyouth sounds _way_ better."

It's petty. Tim knows it is. It just-- It feels like as much of a loss as when Damian stole the mantle of Robin from him. 'It's not fair,' he thinks, and feels his cheeks redden when Kon starts laughing, Tim apparently having said that out loud instead of in his head.

The late Superboy scoops Tim into his arms until he's pulled flush against Kon's side and his fiancé places a gentle kiss to his temple. "Like I'd call myself something as lame as _that_."

Tim thinks about it and it's true. He should trust Kon to make the decision for himself, knowing how personal legacy and superhero identity can be. Tim was just bad with change: always had been, always would be.

"But who knows, maybe I'll become the Clone Wonder," Kon teases.

Tim rolls his eyes and shoves at his shoulder. " _Not_ cool, dude."

"I'm just saying! It's going to be fine," Kon assures against the spot he kissed and places another there just for good measure. " _We're_ going to be fine."

"He deserves it," Tim admits reluctantly after thinking it over. He feels Kon smiling against his forehead and is happy by the fact Kon resisted to add a 'told you so.'

Still, it makes Tim sigh. Being held by Kon only did so much while seeing the Superboy of tomorrow chase around Krypto. In the end, Kon was just as much a sap as Clark; all it probably took was seeing Jon hug Krypto for the first time when Kon decided to hand his mantle over. But, and this is the hard part for Tim, _it's Kon's decision_. And so, there's no use thinking about it in any way other than what the future stores for them both.

"Dick offered Nightwing to me when he went into the agent business," Tim remarks, while snuggling closing to Kon, as though it's idle information. He'd been meaning to bring it up anyway, and like they say, there's no time like the present.

Kon splutters so hard that it jostles Tim, and Tim feels only vindictively pleased that he has news that surprises Kon in the same way it did for him. "Really? How come?"

Kon looks shocked, which, quite frankly, is the understatement of the century, and Tim doesn't blame him. Supers were one thing, but for a Bat to hand down a mantle… _That_ never happened unless there was good reason. Tim shrugs. "No idea, but you'd make a good Flamebird."

"No way," Kon laughs. Just the thought of it makes him shake his head. "I'm not doing the bird thing!"

"Well I mean," Tim says, scooting close enough to Kon to kiss his cheek, "you kinda already are."

Kon purses his lips and watches Krypto bark and nip on the cape attached to Jon's hoodie. When he looks down, he smiles at the light catching on the silver band he used to propose to Tim not too long ago. "Nightwing and Flamebird, huh?"

"Krypton's finest."

"Earth's finest," Kon corrects, leaning in to kiss Tim.

-

"Hey, if you give Superboy to Jon, then what title are you going to give our kids?" Tim asks, crawling into bed. He watches as Kon makes a frustrated sound and his his cellphone beeps angrily at him, signalling he lost whatever game he was playing.

Kon easily tosses it aside and holds his arms out for Tim when Tim finally slides between the sheets. "What?"

"I just... I always thought you'd want to give the Superboy title to your child," Tim explains simply. It's not a bad thing to consider if he and Kon are going to be together and think about their future, he reasons, though his motivation for asking _now_ are perhaps more self-motivated. It's not like he's been actively thinking about it, keyword being 'actively,' but he lets Kon pull him him close and roll around in Tim's arms anyway. They slot together so that Kon's back presses against his chest and Tim breathe against Kon's hairline.

"I don't know... Moa? Partridge? There has to be one bird name that isn't taken by the big guy, one of our own, or a supervillain. We'll find a name for the little goose." Kon shifts until he's comfortable, officially announced through a pleased, happy sound he lets out and the way he snuggles his body closer to Tim's. He links Tim's arms together around his waist and Tim gently pets at Kon's hip and happy trail, kissing the back of Kon's neck until he stops squirming from being ticklish.

"Goose," Tim breathes back, smiling until his cheeks hurt. Kon lets out another happy sigh that's mostly muffled by their shared pillow. Tim falls asleep after kissing the soft lobe of Kon's ear and dreams of little babies dressed in red Superboy onesies and kicking their little feet in black socks with Red Robin crests on the soles.

-

It's not like Tim _wants_ to feel this way. He nearly fails to grasp the next grapple he shot out, distracted by a man with short-cropped, black hair holding a young child in a Superman hoodie piggy-back style. Tim focuses on his center and drowning the world out; right now is a time for Red Robin, not Tim Drake and his absurd fantasies involving Kon and babies. At least now, when he's in costume, he can pretend that his stomach doesn't twist with a pang of sadness whenever he sees young families.

-

Tim wakes up to angry alert of his phone a minute before he hears the tapping on their window. Why it's _him_ and _not Kon_ noticing that is beyond him. Maybe it was a result of having to make up for not meta powers and being constantly aware, or maybe it was that Kon was naturally more relaxed around Tim, but whatever the reason, it was thoroughly unhandy when it came to personal safety.

Tim reflexively reaches out for his phone and checks the security cameras outside their bedroom, which _should_ have been impenetrable as is but apparently he needs to update the scrutiny. Tim sees the figure floating outside their window and sighs evenly to himself, nothing that would tip Jon off. _Go figure_ , considering all the Titans had the codes to actually get into the apartment and everybody on Tim's side would figure out a way to bypass security. Tim rolls out of bed and at Jon's first taps, splits the curtains and unlocks the window.

"It's past your bedtime," Tim says tiredly, more to himself as a point that he was actually happily in bed, snuggled up, and asleep _before_ midnight for the first time in a decade.

Blearily blinking through the initial haze of sleepiness, Tim takes one look at Jon's welling eyes and knows this _isn't_ a night he's going to get any sleep.

-

Kon wakes up several minutes later, after Tim's MacGyvered some hot cocoa from the kitchen supplies only Kon touches and Tim and Jon are seated together on the couch. Jon's all but in Tim's lap, clinging to his side and too proud to let his tears fall, when Kon pads into the living room, eyes still closed and obviously half-asleep. "Tim c'me back… 'S cold."

"We have company," Tim says, and Kon blinks enough to make out his shape rubbing Jon's back. "Wanna join us?"

"Make room," Kon mumbles at Jon, shoving him aside to attach to the same side of Tim as Jon. It's neither graceful nor delicate, but it sandwiches Jon between them, making the kid's trembling more obvious yet calmed. Kon nuzzles sleepily at Tim's neck before dropping his chin to the top of Jon's head, grinding his chin against a cowlick. "So wassup? Why's Superkiddo here?"

Tim looks down to wait for Jon to speak for himself, but he happily remains squished between the two men, cheeks flushed red with frustration and, Tim's guessing, shame.

"Clark said he's too young to be Superboy," Tim explains in lieu of the young hero, who merely blushes harder.

"I remember that," Kon mumbles with a smile. Tim narrows his eyes and watches as Kon's brows furrow. He blinks again, this time as if remembering something important instead of waking up, and frowns. "Wait, no. Nobody told me that. But nobody would take me serious. Lois practically chased me out. Same thing."

" _Mom_ chased you out?" Jon asks in both incredulousness and amusement at the same time Tim says: "Not the same thing."

Tim's gentle offer wins out, he figures, by the way Jon relaxes.

Kon shifts against them both, tugging Jon onto his lap so that Kon can attach himself to Tim more completely. Kon sighs there happily, and Tim rolls his eyes. His eyes are still closed, but Tim can tell he's listening. "Kay, what happened?"

"Well..." Tim doesn't want to explain if Jon's up to it and unlike earlier, Jon swishes his lips from side to side and nods. "Want to tell him?"

"They don't get it! I _had_ that robot, but they said it was too dangerous," Jon moans, complete with his hands talking for him.

Kon just nods. Even without the yawn, Tim can tell he's still half-awake because Kon keeps nodding even after Jon's stopped talking. "One of Lex's?"

"Yeah!”

"They're touchy about that," Kon agrees sleepily, nodding. "What else?"

"They said I was too young and it's not safe to be Superboy! And then I get home and they tell me to do my _homework_. It's like, it's already hard enough just being me! I have to do chores and school and nobody gets me but mom and dad keep saying I have to keep trying and I hate it!" Jon takes a deep breath after his confession, breathing hard.

Tim's thinking of how he should react in a way to affirm Jon's feelings while still acknowledging the legitimate feelings of his parents. Surprisingly, Kon makes that decision for him when he ruffles Jon's hair and laughs, "good job, kid!" Jon looks up with wide eyes and Kon's are open just long enough to show his praise is legitimate and not sleep deprived. "Don't I remember _that_ . You think Clark's bad? Ma is ten times worse, let me tell you. Adults don't get it at all. They expect us to be perfect but guess what? We're not. We've both been there, right, Tim?"

"Right," Tim says easily though hesitantly, unsure where Kon's going with this.

"Yeah, see? I remember one time Ma wouldn't even let me go out until I finished this stupid paper on Abraham Lincoln. Did you know he's the only president to hold a patent? He created some boat thing but it never caught on like he thought it would. Cool, right? But it's like, when the hell will I need to know _that?_ We get you, little SB," Kon slurs, sloppily patting Jon's head, and Tim knows Kon is three seconds away from falling asleep.

"I knew you'd get it!" Jon cries, instantly turning around to sit on his knees and hug them both. Tim lets out a small 'oof' while Kon takes it in stride. He releases his held breath at the curve of Kon's lips against his cheek, just before Kon kisses him wetly and noses at the damp spot.

-

Tim fully expects Kon to forget the ordeal, and he takes the initiative of texting Lois and Clark a picture of Jon and Kon curled up in their bed to let them know that Jon is safe before going to sleep. He calls them again in the morning to confirm that, yes, Jon is still with them, and no, nothing's wrong -- nothing that Jon wants them to know or that Tim would betray, anyway -- and _yes_ , he'll call when they're on their way back to the West Coast, and _double yes_ , Tim will make sure to send Kon as an escort with Jon. He's nearly more tired after hanging up than he was before he went to bed, and immediately goes to the fridge to begin his morning brew, finding that Kon's already set the French press for iced coffee with a little stick-it note that says, 'take it easy today!' with a smiley drawn in Kon's handwriting.

Tim pulls off the note, smiles at it, and tucks it into a secret pocket near his chest as he quickly prepares the rest of his iced brew. He considered drinking it straight but thought better only at the thought of Kon's disappointed face when he asked Tim about it later. It's not as strong as he'd like when it's iced and flavored with Kon's favorite vanilla creamer and splash of hazelnut flavor, but it's delicious.

Tim looks around the living room and kitchen he and Kon share and pushes down the feeling that it's _empty_ . If he and Kon stay together, he's sure that they would have children because Kon wants children. They had a spare room after all, and Kon seemed the type to want a family. There _shouldn't_ be anything appealing about the thought of a baby wailing from the spare room, but Tim can't help but think about it and compare it to now. Would things remain the same? Would Tim still wake up remarkably earlier than the rest of the family, before the sun even rose? Would Kon continue to prepare him little caffeine treats, knowing what a difference it made to the start of Tim's day? Would Kon continue to pet their children's bangs before kissing their foreheads, sure that they're asleep, like he'd done with Jon last night?

-

"That baby is cute," Tim says easily, more by way of observation, as he and Kon pass a father with a baby strapped to his chest with a carrier.

It seems like a perfectly normal and innocent remark to Tim, but apparently it isn't to Kon because Kon stares at the baby in question, making a grand total of _zero_ effort to be discreet, and then squints at Tim. "Thought you didn't like kids."

"I don't," Tim agrees cautiously. He's not even sure why he's blushing but he is. Why is he so nervous all of the sudden? "But that one is cute."

"No, it's not," Kon says honestly, laughing as he pulls Tim closer. "I love you, babe, but that face was all squished."

"It's just a baby," Tim says defensively. His cheeks are hot with-- embarrassment? He's not even sure, but Kon kisses him on the cheek isn't helping.

"They say you start finding all babies cute when you're ready to settle down." Kon explains. "Good thing I asked you to marry me, huh?"

"Must be it," Tim says in a tone mixed equal parts sour and mocking. He may be noticing babies more often lately and finding them cute when he used to pay no mind to them, but he's not concerned. It's a fact that babies are defenseless without a parent taking care of them, so their soft skin, big eyes, large forehead, and other traits that Tim recently finds himself finding adorable all exist to manipulate an adult, much like himself, into caring for the child. It's bio-emotional manipulation, and if Tim can beat Ra's al Ghul at that game, then Tim has complete confidence that he can get over this baby phase.

-

Tim bites his bottom lip and curses. He may have beaten Ra's al Ghul at the game, but Ra's was never _that cute_ or flashed Tim a full-faced, toothless grin.

-

Clark doesn't have to be a reporter to find it suspicious that a young couple that's finally old enough to drink, smoke, and make bad decisions on the weekend are _asking_ him to babysit instead. He crosses his arms, listening to Kon's rationale, and by the end of it, he raises a single brow to Tim. "And you're okay with this?"

"Uh," Tim blurts out, not having expected to do any talking this time. He looks to Kon, who nods back encouragingly with his wide eyes, and Tim's half surprised to find that he's honest when he admits, " _yeah_."

"Well," Clark says, now smiling and shrugging happily, "if Tim's okay with it, then I don't see why not. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

-

'He deserves a break,' Kon had said.

'He's just a kid,' Kon had said.

'Let's take him somewhere special,' Kon had said.

Right now Tim wishes Kon hadn't talked him into it. Kon and Jon look perfectly happy, Jon riding on Kon's shoulders and excitedly pointing at every ride he wants to go on as Kon bends to his every whim, but Tim feels so left out. He's doing his best to hold his head down even though he's already wearing a hat and dark sunglasses, and he's trying to think two steps ahead in case somebody in a costume approaches him for a candid. It wouldn't be the most outlandish way the paparazzi has gotten a hold of a photo of him, and if Time has learned one thing, it ' s that even on a good day with the press, something is bound to happen, especially when he least expects it. After all, it's not every day that the presses gives up on following a Wayne heir. If it wouldn't have been _totally weird_ (but _totally within reason_ ) to rent all of Disneyland for the day, Tim would have simply done that. B definitely had the money for a 'small' outing like this, but Tim knew it would completely contradict Kon's and Jon's worldviews.

And so, he holds his head down.

"What are you doing, Tim? C'mere!" Kon says, yanking on Tim's hand so he tugs close to Kon's side. "You could stand to look a little happier at the Happiest Place on Earth, you know. Besides, the more you try to be covert, the more obvious it will be, and _then_ we really will have to worry about the paparazzi."

Tim initially stiffens but between Kon dragging him and holding his hand, Tim begins to relax, and he _almost_ feels normal when Jon yanks on two fistfuls of Kon's hair, kicks Kon's chest with his heels, and chirps "onward ho, noble steed! To Space Mountain!"

"Watch it, buddy, or I'll send you to Kick Your Butt Mountain," Kon teases in a tone too close to be a growl. He's smiling though, and he lets out a full-bellied laugh at the way Jon squirms and yelps, "not fair! No using TTK!"

Tim grins at the two bickering but Kon catches his eye. "What ride do _you_ want to go on, Tim? This twerp's been picking them all day. It's about time we got to choose a ride."

" _Hmm_." Tim draws it out and a wicked idea crosses his mind when he sees Jon's wide eyes. "I was thinking about the Haunted Mansion." Tim's suspicions weren't wrong, by the way Jon groans and clings on Kon's hair hard enough to make Kon yip. "That is, unless either of you are _chicken._ "

"Ooh, scary," Kon adds, tugging on Jon's ankles. "How about it? You scared, kiddo?"

"I-I'm not chicken!" Jon says, rising to the bait. His cheeks are red and there's a crease of worry along his brow, but his lip remains as stiff as his resolve. "I'm not scared of nothing!"

"Oh _yeah?_ " Tim drawls, and Kon's perfectly timed to pull Jon's hoodie over his eyes. The kid screams from shock, having focused on Tim too much to expect the sneak attack. "That's what I thought, scaredy cat."

"I'm not a scaredy cat!" Red faced and one taunt away from a full pout, Jon puffs up his chest and hops down from Kon's shoulders. "Follow me!" he announces, leading the way.

Kon shakes his head while giving Tim's hand a squeeze. "You're awful."

"You love me for it," Tim shoots back.

Kon doesn't deny it. He just leans close, discreetly lifts Tim's sunglasses with his TTK, and steals a kiss.

-

As it turns out, the Haunted Mansion ride's seating is a tight squeeze for two Super-sized half-Kryptonians and one ex-Robin, but Tim can't really complain when they're crammed so tightly that he rubs against Kon's side the entire ride. It would, Tim admits, at least be a little bit more romantic without Jon screaming every other second.

-

Kon insists on stopping at Snow White's Grotto and gets down on a knee to serenade Tim. At least five people whip out their phones to a sea full of murmured rumors, but all they hear is Jon loudly shouting, "Gross! Get a room!" when Tim yanks Kon by the collar and pulls him up for a fierce kiss.

-

After the Snow White incident, they load up on goodies in the gift shop. Tim switches out his baseball cap for a pair of Mickey Mouse ears and Jon demands a matching set. Kon buys ridiculous Mickey Mouse gloves that look ten times as big as his fists, and matching Toy Story shirts of Buzz and Woody for him and Tim. ("They weren't gay!" "Oh, come on. They were _so_ gay." "Not true, Woody's bisexual! How do you think he got the name?") Jon demands a shirt as well, so they dig through all the piles before they can find a shirt with the alien squeakers. Jon pulls it over his head and smiled brightly at them, his tooth from long ago growing in. "Now we all match!"

Kon's in charge of holding their bag of goodies in the backpack Tim brought, and they carefully tuck away matching souvenir mugs for Lois and Clark and the necklaces Jon made from a bead station for his parents. There are, surprisingly, charms with Batman's symbol and Superman's shield, and Tim and Kon end up making friendship bracelets for each other too. Both are black and red, but Tim's has a shield charm and Kon's has a bat.

"Stop being gross," Jon says, watching them bat their lashes at each other.

-

Several hours later, Tim's jeans are still damp from riding Splash Mountain, Kon's lips are warm and coated in sugar and grease from snacks and hotdogs that cost several times how much they're actually worth, and Jon's breathless from running around and screaming at the top of his lungs all day. He still has a little bit of fight left him, but he's clearly tuckered himself out as the three of them loiter around for the final show of the night.

While Jon runs around, Kon rests his palm on Tim's bottom but it's not even a sexual touch like it used to be when they first got together. It's just a touch for the sake of touching, a touch that says, 'I'm here,' a touch that is warmer than it needs to be and drying Tim's pants. Tim purses his lips and glares at Kon, but it's a mock glare. "You couldn't have, I don't know, done that earlier?"

"Are you saying I should have groped you earlier? You wound my honor," Kon teases back. There's enough time for him to say something else but he doesn't, so Tim knows Kon hears the fireworks being prepared and sure enough, he hears the shoot of them moments later.

"Look, look! They're starting!" Jon pipes, running up to the railing to look up at the fireworks shooting over the castle. He has an ice cream in his hand and a stain from the chocolate sundae he ate for dessert on his cheek.

Tim watches Jon curiously, wondering why he's more interested in seeing the fireworks reflected in his eyes than the sight above him.

Kon tilts Tim's face by the chin so that they're eye to eye, and Tim sees one of the fireworks go off in the reflection of the sky blue band of his iris. Kon runs a hand through his hair and his pupils get wider as his eyelids slit narrow enough that his skin wrinkles where his cheekbones meet his eyes. "Hey, I love you."

"You don't say," Tim means to tease, but it comes out in a whisper, too taken by Kon's eyes and smile to put up a good banter. 

"I mean it!" Kon pouts exaggeratedly but it only lasts a few seconds before the two of them bust out laughing. Kon's hand slips down to the back of Tim's neck and he gives it a comforting squeeze. "Today was fun. I wanna come back here someday. With our own kids, you know?"

"Don't be silly, Kon," Tim laughs. Kon's face immediately falls, but Tim kisses him on the nose and leans into him so that he can go back to watching Jon tilt his head up toward the sky. "We're not coming here. Not for the first time, anyway. We'll go to Disney World."

-

Kon only has to carry Tim to and from Anaheim, but on the trip back, Tim's cradling Jon's sleeping form against his chest. He drops his chin against the top of Jon's head and snuggles further into Kon's arms. When he closes his eyes, Tim can imagine their child sitting in his lap as he sits in Kon's, all three of them snuggling warmly and happily.

-

Disneyland was one thing. Kon had asked for Clark and Lois' permission in advance; there had been a safety plan; Lois made Tim promise to check in with scheduled texts. There were _rules_.

Taking Jon to a Monarchs game in Metropolis?

Jon watches as the other team's batter hits the ball and runs to first. The Monarchs grab the ball and send it to second before the batter can sprint to the base and eventually tag him out. "You sure my mom said this is okay?"

"She didn't say it _wasn't_ okay," Kon says easily, arm wrapped lazily around Tim's shoulders and a plastic cup of cheap beer in his head.

"She didn't say it was okay either!"

"Are you _really_ complaining about box seats and not doing homework?" Tim asks, and he senses Jon stiffen even without peeling his eyes from the game. He didn't much care for baseball, but he knew Kon did, and that's all that really mattered to him.

"It's gonna be fine. C'mere, Jonno," Kon demands, patting his lap. Jon trudges over and reluctantly sits in Kon's lap. Unlike Game of Thrones, this is something Kon _does_ know about, and Tim watches out of the corner of his eye at the growing gleam in Jon's eyes as Kon starts to explain the game and break down the positions.

"Wow," Jon and Tim both whisper at the same time, for different reasons.

-

After the game, they still have time to kill, so Kon loads Jon onto his shoulders, Tim into his arms and launches toward his and Tim's place. They end up in the apartment couch like the night Jon showed up, but this time they're wiping grease off of their fingers and careful not to kick the pizza over. They're on the second episode of Judge Judy when Kon elbows Jon and tells him to grab a Coke from the fridge.

"You get it," Jon grumbles.

"Nuh uh, I bought pizza, so you get to grab the Coke." Kon sticks out his tongue and Jon sticks his out as well, but Jon floats into the air with a groan.

"One for me, too," Tim sneaks in and Jon double groans.

Tim and Kon lean against each other happily as Judge Judy declares her verdict and the fridge squeaks, but Jon howls loudly. "Hey, I made this!"

Both Tim and Kon swivel around in place looking at the fridge from their perch. Kon's face reddens but Tim lets out a quick laugh. Jon's stick figure drawing from the first time they babysat him sits on their fridge, held up by magnets.

"Forgot about that," Kon says under his breath. Tim pats his fiancé's knee with a small smile. With a groan, he tries to smile at Jon. "Yup, first time we babysat you, remember?"

Tim's about to ask Jon about it, but Jon's floating in air with an indescribable smirk on his face. "You two are so...lame."

Tim's cheeks go hot and he tries not to think too hard about it. It's true, only parents put up the art of their kids on the fridge and leave it there for months, years, sometimes decades. He never pegged Kon or himself as _that_ type, but he found it hard to let even a hypothetical version of himself throw away messy scribbles of blob monsters and small stick figures wedged between two bigger stick figures.

"Ah," Tim says without meaning to.

"What's up?" Kon asks.

"Nothing." Tim makes a mental note to redesign the potential Nightwing and Flamebird designs he created; their costumes would need simple, identifiable symbols that could be drawn onto stick figures of him and Kon holding their hands.

-

"Forgot my keys," Tim says as they close the door behind him. Kon nods at Tim and remains with Jon in the hallway in the meantime. Tim remembers leaving them by the fridge where he leaves a to-do list for Kon in the mornings, but he halts after grabbing them. The only drawing attached to their fridge has been graffitied recently. A "boy" has been written in pen and drawn with an arrow pointing between "Kon's" and "friend."

-

After taking Jon to the Monarchs game, they start to sneak other places as well. Central City, Coast City, _Gotham._.. Clark and Lois would be livid if they knew, but that's the perk of being an older brother and not a parent.

"Remember, no telling," Kon says, miming zipping his lips.

Jon's completely silent at he smiles and mimics the gesture back to Kon and Tim.

-

"You're pretty young to be doing this," Tim says, looking over a piece of paper Jon handed him.

"Everybody in school does it," Jon insists in the most grown up voice he can muster.

"What is it?" Kon leans over Tim's shoulder and Tim feels Kon's chest expand against him, like he took a deep breath. He also hears what he knows to be is Kon holding back a laugh. "Oh, just Mash? The girls at Smallville High loved playing this game."

"I'll show you how to do it!" Jon says excitedly, grabbing his backpack with a Superman shield on it and throwing it on the coffee table. He motions for Tim and Kon to sit as he digs out a pencil and a piece of wide-ruled paper from the backpack. "Let's do Tim's. Okay, so the Mash is whether you live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house," Jon explains, tapping each letter. "See?"

Jon explains the rules as he writes lines on the sheet, and then he starts asking for four of Tim's favorite colors, cars, numbers, cities, jobs, and crushes. The last one is funny, since Tim merely points at Kon and says, "duh."

"We get to fill in the blanks for the other ones then," Kon argues, sharing a matching smirk with Jon. Between the two of them, they come up with Kon, Daffy Duck, Supergirl (Superman would be too weird), Lady Gaga, and Adam Lambert. The last one isn't the most unfortunate, Tim thinks, though he has some concern of why they'd want to marry him off to a duck.

Jon and Kon get to choose the fifth option for all of the categories, just to keep things fun. Tim knows how the game works, but he's seriously concerned that Kon encourages Jon to write 1,692,352,064 as the number -- since Tim is pretty sure having that many kids would break the multiverse.

"Okay, so pick a number!"

"Eight."

"Here we go! One, two, three, four..."

Tim and Kon make eyes at each other as Jon begins to scratch off options. Tim's particularly sad to see that he won't be living in Gotham. (There's a smaller pang when Smallville is scratched off the list, but he tries to ignore it.) Kon's becoming impatient because he leans in to peck Tim on the mouth. Jon pounds the table and tells them to pay attention. When he's finally done, he holds the sheet up vertically and taps it against the table as if he were evening out a stack of papers. "So Tim! You live in a  _shack--_ "

"Pfft." Kon bumps Tim's shoulder with his own and Tim bumps him off.

"--and you drive a red minivan."

"That's not so bad," Tim muses.

"You're a doctor living in San Francisco."

Tim and Kon share matching looks, shaking their heads quietly. They've spent enough time in San Francisco to know it's nice to visit but not to live, and Tim as a doctor? Not likely.

"And you're married to Ronald McDonald and have fifteen kids!"

"All of that sounds good," Tim says quietly, kicking Kon because he was the one who suggested most of his crushes. "Except the Ronald McDonald part."

"Even the fifteen kids?" Kon and Jon ask in unison.

"Bruce showed me there's a lot of orphans out there," Tim jokes. Kon doesn't say anything for at least ten seconds. Second-by-second, Tim's face drops. "What's wrong?"

"I just--" Kon starts scratching the back of his neck and laughs. "I didn't know you wanted to. I always thought you'd think they're too much."

"I did," Tim says seriously. He tries to shrug as if everything is cool now. It's not, but he doesn't want Kon to know how he's been surfing orphanage sites to see what preliminary information they need to be considered for adoption. "But that was awhile ago."

"Cool," Kon breathes. "I'm so happy, Tim. Really. This is great! I wanna do that with you some day. Not fifteen, but-- you know."

The way he watches Tim shifts into this dreamy kind of look, as if Tim's transforming into an angel before his eyes. It snaps away when Jon starts whining to play Sorry.

-

"I was thinking about that game we played last time we babysat Jon," Tim says idly, slipping into bed with his tablet.

Kon looks up from his cellphone -- currently spitting out a deep, "tasty!" in the Candy Crush narrator's voice -- and squints as if he's trying to recall. "You mean our Mash?"

"Yeah." Tim tries to hold the excitement back. Casual, he's going for casual. Casual is the one thing he isn't when he scoots next to Kon and butts the tablet in front of Kon's phone. "I found this app online, look."

"Really?" Kon sounds dubious but his face lights up the instant he sees what's on the screen. "Whoa, check this out!"

"I saved the best ones," Tim says proudly as Kon scrolls through a folder of baby images. "I ran pictures of our faces through an online test to see what our baby would look like." Actually, Tim ran strands of their hair through software that predicts potential offspring combinations and health conditions through DNA testing, but Kon didn't have to know that. (33% chance of late-stage breast cancer. They'd have to take precautions for prevention as early as age two.) "What do you think?"

"This is great," Kon breathes, touching one of the pictures of a dark-haired girl with eyes as deep and blue as the summer sky, slightly almond-shaped eyes, and freckles. "We make such cute babies. Especially the girls."

"Yeah," Tim says a bit lower, leaning in a bit closer, bumping his nose against Kon's cheek.

Kon tilts his face so he's almost kissing Tim. "But you married Ronald McDonald, right? How come none of these babies look like clowns?"

Tim pushes Kon away and steals his tablet back. Kon snuggles up to Tim this time, hooking his chin over Tim's shoulder and they scroll through their potential babies together.

-

"Uh, are you feeling okay?" Kon asks worriedly.

Tim's attention snaps up and suddenly he's hyperaware of his body. He stops grinding his teeth and lets go of the shopping cart, where his knuckles have gone white from gripping it so hard. "I'm fine."

"If you say so..." Kon's known Tim for over a decade, and he knows better than to push when Tim gets like this, even if he really, really doesn't think it's good for him. "Why'd we even come down this aisle? Only the baby stuff is here.

Tim leaves the cart to Kon to push, and briskly walks past a family with a complaining teenager, two rowdy toddlers, and a cradle with an infant. He pushes down any and all urges to sweep the child into his arms and poke at its little, clenching hands and kiss those round, fat cheeks.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this is the baby food aisle and I'm just gonna remind you that we don't even have one. Why are we even here?" Kon pushes the cart to catch up to Tim's side, and Tim hates how genuinely concerned Kon looks.

"I don't know," he says honestly. He didn't even think about it any he ended up here. Tim just wanted -- needed-- to see a baby, and it's-- a very confusing feeling.

-

"Will you tell me what's so important that I had to announce I'm taking half a day off at work? That doesn't look good as the CEO, you know." Tim grumbles but honestly he looks more worried than anything else. It wasn't often that he got a text from Steph that said, 'The Chinese place on 4th and Broad. Come. Now.' He slips into the booth where she's already waiting, his face bent in concern.

Steph's face is entirely pink, flushed in an attractive kind of excited way and not one that looks like she's nervous or in danger. Tim hears her heels clack against the ground beneath the table, as if she's doing the theme to We Will Rock You. "I wanted you to be the first person I told. I _just_ found out!"

"Found out _what?_ " Tim tries again, and now it sounds exasperated.

She lets out a quick squeal before gushing, "I'm pregnant!"

The world gets a little bigger and a little smaller all at once. Tim feels a weight in his stomach threaten to lung up, yet he doesn't feel sick at all. It's envy and joy intermingled, casting the world in a white noise that makes perfect sense to Tim.

"That's fantastic," Tim says but finds that he actually means it. "I mean, it is if you want to keep it. Do you want to?"

Despite Tim's careful venture, Steph nods so hard that her hair and dress bounce with her movement. "I'm definitely keeping it this time!"

He holds an open palm out for support. "That's great! Wow, you have to be, what, five, six weeks along?"

"Five," Steph says, rubbing her flat stomach. From the research he's done, Tim knows the baby is the size of a sesame seed or peppercorn. "But that's not the only reason why I wanted you to come."

Steph reaches out to squeeze Tim's hand in support, happening to flash off a giant diamond on her left finger.

"Oh my god!" Tim yells and he almost stops crying. "Does that mean he--?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Steph assures, pulling back her hand. " _He_ didn't propose to _me_. _I'm_ proposing to _him_. This way, I get to choose my engagement ring. It rocks!"

"Wow," Tim breathes, reeling from all the new information. "So-- What about the wedding? Do you have a date?"

Steph frowns, looking anywhere but Tim. "Well, I guess it might be a shotgun wedding now. I'm not sure. I mean, I knew I was going to propose today anyway, but I didn't know I would be pregnant."

"Steph, he's a lucky guy to have you," Tim insists, reaching over the table to scoop her chin and tilt it toward him. "Right now, seven, or twelve months from now, he'll be the happiest groom on the planet. Trust me. I let you slip by once already."

"As if you're not happy with Kon," she teases, swatting his hand away. "I'm happy for you, by the way. I'm surprised it took him this long to propose. I hope you two aren't planning to be senior citizens by the time you marry or you'll be skeletons by the time you decide to have kids."

The thought sours Tim's mood and he pushes it down, along with any thoughts of baby envy he had earlier. "We can talk about me and Kon later. This is about _you_."

"Right, _well_ , I have _so_ many thoughts about my pregnancy announcement party, but we're going to have to work fast."

"Tell me everything," Tim says. He already has his and Kon's adoption announcement party planned out, so he knows exactly how to plan this.

-

"You okay, Tim?" Kon asks, voice raspy from the deep kisses he was sharing with Tim.

Tim reaches for Kon's shoulders and tries pulling him close again. He doesn't want to think about how he's feeling. He just wants Kon's mouth on him, distracting him from everything. "Yeah, just- kiss me."

"I don't think we should." Of all the nights for Kon to be considerate, Tim does not want tonight to be one of them. Kon backs off until he's sitting on his heels and tugs at Tim's hands until he's doing the same. "You don't seem too into it. I mean, you do but-- Did something happen today?"

Tim clenches his eyes shut. He just wants to go back to kissing and scratching at Kon's back desperately and trying to spread his legs. "Everything's fine."

Kon narrows his eyes but says nothing. He sighs and changes to crossed-leg sitting. "Tell me about your day."

No, no, _no_ . The last thing Tim needs is Kon fishing for feelings. Tim scrubs the balls of his wrists against his forehead and knows there's no escaping it when Kon takes both of Tim's hands into his own and looks deeply into Tim's eyes. "Everything's fine Kon. Steph's pregnant again. See? Everything is just fine."

"That's great!" Kon says, squeezing Tim's hands. He studies Tim's face -- and heartbeat and blood flow, Tim knows -- for a good minute before he says evenly, "you're upset about it."

"No." Tim lets his head hang low between them. He doesn't want to admit this -- not to himself, not to Steph, and _especially_ not to Kon. It's nasty, how this jealousy is eating him up so much that he'd use sex as distraction. He doesn't want to admit that a little part mourns the fact that he and Kon will never have to worry about checking the calendar for ovulation, scheduling birthing classes, or buying clothes that fit around a swollen bump that is their child. The urge to hold babies makes no sense even to Tim, and he's not sure he can describe to Kon the sense of loss he feels when he sees Jon or the children on the playground, like this overwhelming feeling sitting in his gut and threatening to claw its way out. He doesn't want to tell Kon that he's actually envious that Steph can have a baby whenever she wants, that the thought of seeing Steph heavy and glowing and happy with her yet-to-be-born baby fills him with such envy that he can't think straight. Because if he could think straight, then he wouldn't be having all these unavoidable thoughts that end in the _need_ to have a child. "Yes."

Kon watches Tim bite his bottom lip for several seconds before scooting closer on his knees, close enough to see his own reflection in Tim's eyes when Tim finally, _finally_ looks up again. "Tim, it's okay to be upset! You're worried she's going to put this baby up for adoption and regret it again, aren't you? Or what's going to happen to her now that she's pregnant again? She's still...important to you, so it's okay. If it's about how you think I'd react, then you know--"

"You would never," Tim says, squeezing back.

"I would never," Kon repeats.

Tim deflates at the sight of Kon's thick, bent eyebrows and the determined curve of his lip. "I love you," Tim says honestly, leaning in to plant his mouth on Kon's. It lacks the hungry need from earlier but contains all the sincerity his previous kisses lacked.

-

The only thing that sucks about visiting Metropolis is that they have to find an abandoned alleyway or take a train 30 minutes outside of the city before they can shoot into the sky and fly back. Kon used to carry both Tim and Jon, but now Jon can hold his own. Kon has to hold back from full speed, but it's still faster and safer than alternative transportation. Thirteen minutes of wandering about aimlessly for an empty alleyway and Jon's beginning to get restless. "Can we _go?_ "

"Soon," Tim assures, watching Kon sweat.

"I'm hungry!" Jon's starting to whine. In a few minutes, they're going to have a Super tantrum on their hands.

"I'll buy you an ice cream when we get into town," Kon promises.

"Why don't we have a snack now?" Tim suggests, tilting his head toward a food truck across the street. Tim sees the stress seep out of Kon more than hear his sigh of relief. "Come on, my treat."

Jon's sated by the small treat of a classic Metropolis-style hot dog, humming happily. Kon laughs at him and shoves a napkin at the kid. He only laughs harder when Jon starts wiping everywhere except the grease stains on his chin and cheek.

"C'mere," Kon says, dabbing at Jon's face with a new napkin. Jon fusses and Tim can't help but pull out his phone to take a picture. He leans down to help Kon clean Jon up after sending a snapchat to Clark, taking the opposite cheek.

"You make an adorable family," a woman says as she leaves with her pizza. Tim grabs Kon's arm and squeezes.

"Oh, actually this is my brother and my boyfriend!" Kon says heartily, taking his and Tim's napkins and throws them away. Jon beams up to the woman, smiling wide enough that his missing tooth shows.

She smiles at them and they carry on. After a few minutes of walking, Kon stops them and turns to Tim. "You okay? Your heart's been beating really fast ever since we bumped into that lady."

"I'm fine," Tim insists. His cheeks instantly bloom with a rosy blush. "I just..." Tim eyes Jon before leaning closer to Kon, holding his hand up to whisper in his ear. There's no telling when Jon will be able to control when his superhearing kicks in, but Tim would rather keep this between him and Kon for now. "I liked her mistaking us for a family."

"Oh." Kon smiles. Broadly. Happily. He blushes a little and nods in agreement. "Me too."

"What is it?" Jon asks. He looks between Tim and Kon, face set determinedly to know just as much as they do. "What is it!?"

"It's a secret," Kon says haughtily. "Only big kids can know it."

"I'm a big kid!" Jon insists at the same time Tim snorts, "Kon, you're a big baby."

Kon shoots his most exaggeratedly hurt frown at Tim, but responds to Jon. "I can only tell you if you're cool."

"I'm cool!" Jon insists again, tugging on Kon's wrist with both hands. "I'm cool! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Okay, but only because you're my little brother, so I know you're cool." Kon crouches down on his knees, eyeing Jon seriously. Tim shakes his head and looks away to cover his laughing. Kon squeezes Jon's shoulder, waiting for Jon to nod and swear his coolness and prove what a big boy he is. "Tim said she farted."

"Kon!" Tim says, smacking him in the arm -- which, _ow_ , not his best idea -- as Jon bursts into giggles.

Kon shrugs, smiling at Tim.

"Wait," Jon says, still giggling a little. "You said, 'me too!'"

This time, Tim's the one busting into laughter.

-

"I guess Ron could work," Tim says idly. He and Kon are sitting side-by-side in their bed, backs against the headboard. There's a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs dangling between the rod between them from where they played with it earlier.

Kon's brows are knitted and his tongue is sticking out in concentration from where he's tilting his smartphone side-to-side. It's the latest game Zynga suggested he download, Tim knows. "For what?"

He flips the page of his book calmly, not showing how frustrated he is at Kon for not listening. "For a baby. Keeps with the rhyming theme you and Jon got going on."

"The what--?" A few sounds shoot out of Kon's phone before something like an explosion happens and Kon throws his phone to the foot of the bed. He seems to remember what Tim was saying a minute later, but the hum he makes sounds like he doesn't agree. "Yeah, guess so. But I don't like that. Ron. Ron..." Kon crawls to the foot of his bed and retrieves his phone. "Don't we know a Ron?"

Flips page. "Well, what names do you suggest?"

"Ha! Knew we knew a Ron! He's the neighbor three stories down. Wait, three stories down... I don't think we actually know him. Why is he on my Facebook?" Kon scrolls through his feed after his little discovery. Tim's abandoned hope and doesn't want to ask again when Kon says, "Maybe...Kim? She could rhyme with you. I don't know... Clark already took Pa's name and that's not fair. I mean, I didn't know him but I always thought... So maybe your dad's name?"

"Jack?" Flips page.

"Yeah. For a boy." Tim pretends not to see Kon's smile out of the corner of his eye. He continues to pretend to read as Kon rolls toward the nightstand and plugs his phone in. "And your mom's name and Ma's for a girl. Janet Martha? Martha Janet?"

"Hmm." Flips page. "Either would work. You definitely want a family name then?"

"Yeah, they're cool." Kon's laying down completely and tugs on Tim's arm. "C'mere, babe. Wanna spoon you."

Tim sets his book down on the nightstand and turns off the lamp. He turns his back so Kon can wrap around him like an octopus and kiss the back of his neck. When he falls asleep, he dreams of a baby boy named Jack with sky blue eyes and two baby front teeth growing in.

-

Tim finds himself whispering, "Martha Janet," and, "Janet Martha," under his breath the next week. He decides Martha Janet definitely sounds better.

-

Tim would never admit it, but sometimes he loses himself in the fantasy. In truth, he still doesn't feel like an adult sometimes, even though he and Kon live together, so when he's washing the cups Kon and Jon were drinking soda out of in Lois and Clark's kitchen, it lets him pretend he's an adult. Tim knows it's just an adult version of playing house, but he can't stop the swelling feeling in his chest.

Today's he's put his all into it. Knowing that tonight they'd be babysitting Jon, Tim photocopied Ma's meatloaf recipe and spent the better part of the night cooking it. He's enjoyed the evening more than he cares to admit, Kon and Jon running around the house and screaming loud enough that he knows exactly what happened without having to be there. Kon popped into the kitchen to kiss his cheek half an hour ago, and Tim was able to sit around for an episode of a superhero TV show while some of the ingredients were cooking.

So far, things have gone without a hitch. Though he definitely has to account for everyday mishaps and the fading allure of domestic bliss, Tim likes to imagine how this could be him and Kon some day: Kon would come home, kiss Tim's cheek, and check in on the kids. He'd keep them entertained with their homework, chores, or messing around while Tim finished up with dinner or work, and then they'd all sit down for a meal together. Tim smiles to the mere thought of it, letting out a dreamy sigh.

The oven's beep interrupts Tim's humming and that's Tim's cue to stop working on the sauce and pull out the meatloaf. He puts the Lane-Kent oven mitts on and tries to stop his heart from soaring. He feels so domestic and happy doing this, feelings that are strange to associate with tasks he formerly despised. He can't wait for Kon and Jon to barrel in, twisting excitedly at the thoughts of their happy faces. Tim could get the hang of this domestic thing, and he could do it just as well as any Kent. Ma's and Clark's shoes were big ones to fill, after all.

"Dinner's almost ready!" he calls out, getting a small, eager flutter in his stomach. "Kon! Jon! Come set the table!"

One second later, both Supers stumble into the kitchen and dining space. It's a tight squeeze with two grown men and a bouncing boy, but it makes Tim's heart squeeze. Tim allows himself to think of them as 'his boys,' and so while his boys set the table with silverware and plates, Tim finishes the sauce and arranges the meatloaf. Between group effort, everybody is seated, served, and ready to eat within a few minutes.

Tim's stomach twists pleasantly seeing his boys practically salivate over his hard work. He's pleased with himself, though their reactions are certainly a boost to his ego.

Jon's about to dig in when Kon yanks the silverware out of his hand with his TTK. "Nuh uh, your ma and pa taught you better than that. What do we say?"

"Thaaanks, Tiiim," Jon parrots, rolling his eyes at Kon. Kon squints and Jon purses his lips out petulantly. "Okay, okay! Thanks, Tim. It's really cool you made dinner."

With a pleased nod, Kon gives Jon his silverware back. As if that's not enough to make Tim's heart swell to its maximum, Kon reaches for Tim's hand over the table and smiles. "Thanks, babe. You're amazing, you know that?"

Tim takes Kon's hand into his own and gives it a squeeze. He's so happy he could die happily, his reality exceeding his domestic fantasy by leaps and bounds.

Kon sections off some meat and stuff it into his mouth, but Jon's already taken a mouthful, eyes going wide. Here it is, here's the moment Tim's been waiting for all night: " _Yuck!_ "

Jon spares no detail with spitting out Tim's meatloaf and hacking on the choked bits in his throat. Tim looks to Kon, who looks guilty even as he tries to smile through it. "Uh, babe, it's kinda...raw."

Tim frowns at his attempt at the perfect dinner. An hour later, they eat a thick crust pepperoni and mushroom delivery pizza, and Tim's meatloaf sits cold and stinking in the trash.

-

Kon finds Tim sitting on their bed, holding his knees to his chest and his head between his knees. "Before you say it, I already know."

The bed dips beneath his weight as Kon takes a seat next to Tim, not quite touching him yet. "And what is it that I'm gonna say?"

Tim lifts his head and frowns. "That I suck."

"No, you don't," Kon assures gently. He wraps his arm around Tim's hip and pulls him close. "I _knew_ you'd angst about this all night. Listen, not trying to be mean, but cooking's never been your thing."

Tim relaxes against Kon but he still looks miserable. "But I _wanted_ to. I-- I wanted to be good at this and impress you both and show that...I can be...a good..."

"Dummy." Kon scoops Tim into a hug, messing up his hair. "There are other things you're great at that are way better than cooking."

Tim huffs at Kon's Disney-movie-optimism line. He all but says, 'hmph,' lost in his silent brooding.

"I thought you might not believe me and so," Kon says after awhile, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolding it, "I made you a list."

"Of what?" Tim asks curiously, stubbornly guarded nonetheless.

"Of things you're great at." Kon flaps the list out and clears his throat. "Number one: you're really great at doing the Batman thing of disappearing and appearing without anybody hearing it."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm getting there!" Kon says, softly bumping Tim's shoulder with his own. "It means you're going to catch our kids doing all _kinds_ of things they shouldn't be doing. Oh yeah, they're gonna _hate_ that."

Tim blushes, imagining the picture. Okay, Kon had a point. But Tim wasn't about to tell Kon how his ability to change a negative into a positive always made him feel better. "What else?"

"Number two: you have so many contingency plans that nothing's going to slip by you. You'll know when our babies have to take a shit before they do, and you'll be ready with the diaper, wipes, and changing station already set up when they do."

Tim snorts. He relaxes against Kon though, snuggling a bit closer. "You have a way with words."

"That's why you're marrying me, right? Okay, number three: you're stubborn as a mule."

"How flattering," Tim says dryly.

Kon smirks like the conniving bastard he is, like he's already prepared for that response. " _Which means_ we're going to raise our children on your beliefs and never regret it, even if everybody thinks we're crazy for it. We're going to do what we think is right, because our kids are gonna be our life and I want the best for them, and I know _you_ want the best for them, so we're gonna give them the best."

"The word you're looking for is 'determined,' not 'stubborn,'" Tim corrects in a small, delicate voice that's barely above cracking, "and I love you."

"Love you too, babe. Number four!" Tim hugs Kon's arm to his chest and leans his forehead against Kon's shoulder. Kon snuggles up as he continues with his list, reading off the remaining thirty points all night long.

-

Tim knows it's wrong. He shouldn't feel this way. He should be able to just buy the damn baby onesie and move on with his life. But as he looks at all the clothing, he can't decide, and he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

"How about this one?" Kon offers, holding up a white onesie that has 'I'd flex but I like this onesie,' stitched on it. Kon wiggles the clothing in his hand, eyebrows rising up and down when he says, "eh? Eh? It's funny!"

"No," Tim says sourly. "I mean, it is but-- No."

Because they can't buy that onesie for Steph.  _Tim_ wants it for  _their_ baby, even if they don't have one yet. So, no, he can't buy  _that_ one. He feels the same about the Batman and Superman novelty onesies on the racks, the gag ones that say, 'Diaper loading,' and the ones that are blatant memes. (Oh yes, their little girl is going to be well acquainted with Mean Girls from the moment she comes into this world.) Tim sighs in frustration again, cupping his chin with a hand and glaring at the onesies as if it will make his decision any easier.

"... _Babe_ ," Kon says, thickly, placing his hands on Tim's shoulders and beginning to massage. "You've been at this of nearly _an hour_. I know you want it to be perfect, but can we  _please_ pick one and _go?_ You have, like, a million other things on that list that you want to buy for Steph's baby shower and we haven't even got  _one thing_ yet!"

Kon's right, Tim reluctantly admits, groaning. He's melted into Kon's thumbs pressing deep circles in neck and shoulder muscles, and Kon drops his chin onto Tim's shoulder. 

"Fine. Which is the ugliest onesie here, do you think?" Kon's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in surprise and Tim shrugs, trying to play it off. "It'll be ironic."

-

"Kon." Tim lovingly pounds on Kon's chest until he wakes up. "Kon. Wake up."

"Tim?" Kon yawns. He stretches, grabbing his phone off the nightstand to check the time. "It's two-forty. In the morning. I know that's working hours for you, but regular people sleep right now."

"We need to talk," Tim says seriously. He's wide awake and he can't sleep with the thoughts that have been plaguing him for the past three hours. It's eating away at him and Tim's finally,  _finally_ admitted to himself that maybe his jealous planning Steph's baby shower is more than he gave it credit. Even Kon had freaked out when the rim of Tim's eyes became red with tears he wouldn't cry just because Steph chose red and purple for her baby shower. He'd been so reluctant to tell Steph, but she changed her colors to yellow and purple with a laugh. As far as Kon knew, Tim was just overwhelmed with feelings for Steph's child.

"Kay... I'm up, I'm up." Kon's yawn says otherwise, but he at least rubs at his eyes and looks at Tim. "So...?"

"I want a baby." Tim braces himself. For the past hour, he's prepared rebuttal arguments in case Kon says he doesn't want children or that they won't be suitable parents. He's planned out what to say if Kon says this is going to be the end and a deal-breaker in their relationship. He's _ready_.

Kon must be more asleep than he says he is because his face breaks out into a loose, lazy smile. "Me too."

Tim restrains the urge to smack his boyfriend. He did not stress for hours while Kon slept peacefully for such an underwhelming response. "For real? I mean this seriously. I want to raise a baby with you."

"Yeah, seriously," Kon mumbles. Tim thinks Kon's dozed off again but he doesn't hear any snoring. "Kinda figured when you started askin' about names. How many?"

"Just one..." Kon is _definitely_ not asleep or he wouldn't raise his eyebrow like that. "Okay. Three. Maybe four if we want twins?"

"Sounds good. Name one Martha and the other one Janet. Can we sleep now?"

"There's one more baby than we picked out names if we have four," Tim points out, pounding Kon's chest until he wakes up again. He knows it feels like nothing more than a tap to Kon, but Kon breathes heavily as if each tap pains him.

Kon's lips purse out like a fish's and Tim's hand vibrates gently until the rumble of his chest as he thinks. "Clark r' Bruce? 'Less you wanna name one after Bart... Figure it out in the morning."

"Thomas," Tim thinks aloud. It's a way of honoring Bruce without being so tacky about it. The idea of four children, two boys and twin girls, sounds more and more appealing by the second in Tim's mind.

"Whatever you want, babe. Now for the love of god,  _sleep_." Kon hoists an arm around Tim's hip and peels him close, sloppily kissing Tim's cheek. Tim's guessing Kon was aiming for his mouth but gave up midway through his effort. Either that or he immediately fell asleep, which seems more likely the way his snores rumble Tim to sleep.

-

"Did you mean it last night?" Tim asks first thing when Kon's eyes peel open.

"I always mean it," Kon says, leaning in to press their mouths together, morning breath and all.

-

So Kon said, but Tim doubts Kon _actually means it_. If he did, he wouldn't be toying with Tim's emotions like this. Tim's doing his best to smile for the cameras, but inside he's _burning_. It's times like now that Tim wishes he was just Timothy Jackson Drake and not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. If he weren't a Wayne, then Kon would have no reason to show up to the fancy Wayne galas, dress in a suit that Tim literally wants to rip off his body, _or_ cradle babies to his chest while Tim poses with their mothers.

"Looking good, Tim!" Kon praises from beside the camera, twisting the baby boy in his arms so that he can wave a little arm at his mother. "You too, Mrs. Astor. Say hi to mama!"

The crowd coos and a few of the cameras change their direction to Kon, who has become the most beloved newcomer to Gotham's elite scene. Tim can't even blame them because Kon has him completely charmed just holding a baby. Tim _knows_ he should be happy to simply enjoy the sight of Kon holding a cute baby, but if he's being honest with himself for once, he's not. He's not satisfied with _just_ that. He's filled with-- something. Something that makes his stomach twist in want for that child in Kon's arms to be theirs.

Tim imagines himself turning to Mrs. Astor right now and asking her how much she  _really_ loves her child. She's just like all the rest, willing to give anything for the right price, and a woman like that doesn't deserve a child. He knows the kind of woman she is, and that child would be far better off with him and Kon. They would raise him as their own in a loving home, soft laughter and smiles and-- "Champagne, Tim?"

"No," Tim responds coolly. His voice is even and flat, his tone isn't snappish, and he feels in control. This feeling won't control him; he'll control  _it_.

-

"I get it," Kon says to Tim, rocking a sleeping Jon back and forth in his arms. Tim's pretending to watch TV, but he hasn't looked away from the brotherly duo since Jon crawled into Kon's lap and rested his head against Kon's shoulder. "The whole annoying little brothers thing."

"You have _no_ idea," Tim assures, unable to begin to conceive of Damian letting Tim hold him in his arms. He doesn't even realize how jealous it sounds because he's too busy imagining what it would be like to have Kon rocking their child like that. Their son. What their son would look like, if Kon would be just as gentle or even more gentle.

Kon hums as if he doesn't believe Tim and rests his chin on Jon's head. He closes his eyes for awhile, and when he opens them looks directly at Tim. They both smile self-consciously, faces flushed from realizing they were both trying to sneak a peek at each other.

"Something on my face?" he asks while rearranging to stand up and lay Jon on Clark's easy chair. "You haven't watched a single second of this episode. It's a good one too, the one where Wendy and Seraph fight."

"No," Tim says. He yanks Kon's wrist until his boyfriend joins him on the couch. Normally it would stop there, with Tim and Kon sitting thigh-to-thigh and cuddling the rest of the night. But after seeing how Kon is _so damn good_ with kids, Tim has other ideas. He presses Kon down until Kon's head rests against the sheet cushions and his legs dangle off one of the armrests. Tim straddles Kon's hips, licking his lips as he leans down to kiss Kon's neck. "We should make a baby."

"Dude!" Kon squeaks -- emphatically but quietly -- as he pushes Tim up by the chest. "Jon is, like, right there!"

"Not _now_." Tim rolls his eyes. "Just...soon."

Kon eyes him suspiciously. At least, it looks like suspicion. It could also be pain from wanting to kiss Tim really, really badly but knowing it's not the time or place for it. "So right now you're...?"

"Teasing the hell out of you," Tim says with a wink, circling his hips over Kon's.

-

Later that night, Tim isn't just teasing the hell out of Kon, and Kon's hard against him, trying to rut against Tim's thigh as he moans, "Tim… _Tim_..." over and over against Tim's lips.

Tim's just as breathless and he pulls away to look into Kon's eyes: the understanding, the desire, the love. "Could we...try something new?"

"Sure," Kon says easily, eyes widening with delight. He kisses Tim on the lips briefly and snuggles up to him, obviously on board before Tim even tells him what the kink is. "What do you want to do? Sounding? Doctor play?"

"Um. No." The light is dim, but Kon swears Tim's squinting at him. Damn. Little did he know Tim's filing that information away for later, perhaps a birthday or anniversary. What he does see is Tim taking a deep breath and pressing his palms to Kon's chest, rubbing them up and down soothingly there. Tim bites his bottom lip, and after a moment of staring only at his chest, looks Kon in the eyes. "I want you to call me daddy."

"Oh." It's little more than a puff of air, but Kon grins mischievously. "We can do that. You want me to be your little sugar baby?"

"No," Tim says, letting his hands rub up to Kon's shoulders and give them a squeeze. "I want to call you daddy too. Dad. Or papa."

"Huh." It's not judgemental, but it doesn't sound exactly thrilled either. "Like...we're both daddy?"

Tim nods, his cheeks flushed pink and his gaze set on Kon's chest again. "Yeah. I'd...like that. Do you like any of those...um, names?"

"Uh, papa's good with me... Wow, you really do want to have a kid with me," Kon laughs. He sees the way Tim's face bunches up and his shoulders tensing. Kon pulls the love of his life flush against his body, kissing his cheek. "I didn't mean I don't not like it, because I do. I like the idea of us together."

"Really?" Tim says quietly, looking at Kon again. One hand cups Kon's cheek, the other trailing down his stomach. Tim hooks their legs together, his toes brushing up Kon's calves. If Kon wasn't already into the idea, that could certainly change his mind.

"Well, yeah." Kon feels his own face flush up, and he starts to understand why Tim was afraid of bringing it up. "I mean, we're both in it for the long haul, right? Getting married, raising a family, buying a bigger place--"

Tim starts kissing Kon before he can get to the married part, hips rutting against Kon's as he describes their life together. "We'll have an apartment in Gotham and a farmhouse in Smallville. What about our car?"

"Umm." It's hard to think with Tim sucking on his earlobe like that, and if he knew Tim had a domesticity kink, he would have brought this up ages ago. "A H-Hyundai? I like the commercials. The Super Bowl one was funny."

"Oh god," Tim practically moans into his ear. " _Yes_ . Their safety rating is so good. Tell me about our house, papa."

"It's going to have four bedrooms," Kon says, voice shaky by the end when Tim nibbles his ears and tugs gently on the lobe. His knees buckle and his ass clenches when Tim gropes a cheek.

"We need five," Tim reminds hotly and places a kiss on Kon's ear. Hands splayed on Kon's chest, he takes a nipple into hand and pinches it. Encouraged by the sounds Kon makes, Tim does it again, smiling at the way Kon's flesh hardens beneath his touch and makes his hair rise. "One for spare. Baths?"

"Th-Two-and-a-half… No, three!" Kon whines in delight, bucking against Tim's thigh. His nipples get hard in Tim's touch and he nods acquiescently before realizing what he's agreed to. "And a den and an office."

" _Yes._ What else? Tell me more," Tim begs, and there's no stopping Kon's hand from working itself into Tim's hair and yanking needily on it. Tim bares his neck and Kon leaves imprints of his teeth there, whispering against the newly bruised skin.

"We're gonna have a huge back yard." He grinds on Tim and is pleasantly surprised when Tim pushes back, dick hard, and leaking through a damp spot on his briefs. They'd been dry before Tim proposed the new kink, and it's with that reassurance that Kon adds, "with a porch."

"Ohhh my god," Tim moans, and that _does_ do things for Kon. He slips a finger on the inside of Tim's elastic band, pulling it down far enough so their dicks rub against each other hotly, but it's maddening and he ends up dragging down both of their underwear with his TTK and flinging them carelessly across the room. " _Papa_."

Kon didn't think he'd be into it, but the name sparks something inside of his body. Kon flips them over so that he's on top, relentlessly grinding his dick against Tim's and hoisting him up by the small of his back so that Tim locks their lips together once again. It only lasts a briefly because Kon bites Tim's bottom lip, kisses it, and says against his mouth, "I'll build a seesaw for our babies with my bare hands. And cornhole boards."

An image of Kon sweaty and glorious after woodworking for hours for their children's playthings makes Tim screams brazenly and his entire body spasms; he can't take it any longer, he needs to touch his cock _now_ . Tim loosely fixes his hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers against their frotting cocks, and gasps when his touch is rougher than expected. Kon growls when he has to pull one hand away from playing with Tim's ass and spanking it softly, but he flings it out for their nightstand, their lube flying over and cap snapping open from Kon's TTK. Both of them hiss and laugh as the coolness of the substance, and Tim begins to slide his hand, slathering their cocks in it as he jerks off their leaking cocks together. "I get so hard when you talk Smallville to me. Fuck, our backyard is going to be amazing."

"Wait 'til you see what I do with that big ol' grill of mine in our backyard, daddy," Kon promises playfully, whimpering deeply against Tim's cheek.

"You're gonna grill so many steaks by our pool that's only five-feet-deep," Tim groans in a near cry. He's doesn't remember a time he was ever as hard as he is in this moment and it's over a kiddie pool.

Still, Tim can't regret it when his cock _hurts_ from how good it feels when Kon talks back, "it's okay that it's shallow because we'll install a waterslide in it."

Tim freezes and Kon suspects he's gone too far. That's before Tim locks his ankles behind Kon's back and begins sliding himself up and down just enough to jerk their dicks off together. "I've never been so turned on in my _life_ than right now."

"You gonna come if I tell you our home has an open floor plan, a fireplace, and a playroom?" Kon jokes, though he's kneading his fingers against Tim's ass and kissing up and down Tim's neck.

" _Yes,_ " Tim shamelessly, feeling his balls tighten when Kon bites his shoulder. Kon's barely touched him and he's already ready to come.

"Yeah, that's it. Come for me, daddy. Come for me and our two-story, three-car garage home."

The thought of it is driving Tim _wild_ and he pumps their dicks so hard that he has to yanks on Kon's hair just to stay upright. "Yes, yes, yes. I love it. I love _you_."

Kon growls so loudly that his entire chest vibrates, the growl that only comes out whenever Tim says those three magical words when they make love. Kon claims Tim's mouth as he thrusts against Tim's cock and hand with a renewed vigor, and Tim lets out a deep moan reserved only for Kon's ears. This time it's Kon who breaks away, whispering against Tim's lips, "Our babies are going to love our house."

Tim cries and can't even feel self-conscious about it because it makes every pore in his body sing in pleasure. " _Please_."

Kon must like the way that Tim arches against him. They tumble into the mattress again, both of them melting against each other too much to hold themselves up.

"Our babies are gonna grow up in that house, Tim," Kon says between grit teeth as Tim's head hits the mattress. "We're gonna bathe them, and make them put up their toys, and teach them how to tie their shoes."

"Fu _uuuck_." Tim's eyes roll backwards and he's never even heard himself moan like _that_ before.

"I want," Kon gasps, losing himself to the fantasy more than he intended to, "want a space on the wall where we measure their heights."

"See how they grow up throughout the years," Tim agrees and he's highly acute of the way their bed shakes beneath their rutting. Not good for the kids. "Gotta get a bed that doesn't squeak."

" _Shit_ ,” Kon says, but he lets out a laugh. It makes his thrusts sloppier than they were before, but they're both so close that neither of them give it much mind, letting their sweaty bodies do as they please.

Tim can't blame him; he laughs too and stops groping Kon just long enough to cup Kon's cheek, little, 'haahs,' 'aahns,' and 'nns,' peppering their laughs. They kiss in a way too sweet for their filthy rutting or the way Tim whines, "I'm so close, so close. Kon."

"M-Me too," Kon admits, smiling. His mouth twists deviously and he licks his lips with a final moan, suspecting something that will tip Tim over the edge. Kon kisses Tim's jaw up to his ear, giving the lobe a quick kiss. "Daddy's gonna be so good to our babies."

Tim's eyes snap wide open as he comes all over their stomachs and chests.

-

"I like our sexy dream house, daddy," Kon admits after he's caught his breath. Tim's heart is still racing and his heart skips a beat when he sees how flush Kon's cheeks are and the way his hair sticks up from where Tim pulled at it. "But we need a treehouse."

"I'm sure we could work something out," Tim drawls, pulling Kon by the ass to press his second hard-on of the night against Kon's stomach.

-

After over four years of dating, Tim's always pleasantly surprised when he learns something new about Kon. Today, that pleasant surprise is that Kon is a pillow fort-making- _master_. From the outside it doesn't look too impressive. Actually it reminds Tim of a sad attempt at a Halloween costume when a sheet's just tossed over somebody's head. But inside? Tim _dreamed_ about pillow forts like this when he was a kid.

"Come on in!" Kon shouts smugly.

Tim's not sure what's more impressive: the way the pillow fort manages to remain cool and not too stuffy or hot inside, or the way it keeps holding up, even when Jon literally slides into the pillow fort and jumps around. "This is _so cool!_ ”

Tim whistles as he crawls inside. Even he's not sure how Kon managed to get the fairy lights lined against the edges of the corners. "Color me impressed."

Jon's immediately rushing around with his super speed, checking all the nooks and crannies. There are snacks, games, and, of course, enough blankets to warm an entire army in B-man's cave.

"I wanna play Go Fish," Jon announces as he jumps into a criss-cross sitting position and slams down a deck of cards.

"Sure," Tim agrees and Kon nods back. They let Jon set the game up since they're too busy making eyes at each other, though Kon flutters the cards out of Jon's reach with his TTK a few times.

"Alright, let's go!" Jon pipes cheerfully, holding his hand against his chest. "Prepare to lose!"

"No way, you're going down," Kon promises, cards snapping toward him with his telekinesis.

Tim remains tactfully quiet. Letting them battle it out will let him manipulate them to ensure his own victory. "We'll see about that, boys. Alright, Jon, you start."

"Got a six, Kon?"

"Go fish, Jonno!"

" _Maaan_..."

A few rounds pass in happy warmth, cards shifting hands and the pool pile becoming increasingly smaller. Besides Tim asking Kon, "Got a king?" and Kon responding, "just you, babe," the game passes in friendly rivalry and child-friendly taunts.

Tim smirks at Kon over his hand, sure that he has a winning combination. "Got a seven?"

" _Go fish, daddy_ ," Kon says with a wink, letting his TTK brush over Tim's cheek. Tim blushes, but he blows Kon a kiss.

-

After hours of games and snacking, Jon crawls out of the fort to sleep. Kon sighs tiredly and Tim stretches backwards to crack his back. Tim's already considering what a pain -- and a shame -- it will be to take down the fort, but once Jon's out of sight, the pillow fort collapses in on itself immediately.Tim gasps, utterly scandalized. "You didn't!"

"Oops?" Kon says, blushing. "C'mon, what's the point of having TTK if I can't use it to impress little kids?"

Tim's shaking his head with a huge grin, imagining how crushed their children will be when they discover the truth behind their papa's pillow fort skills.

-

Lots of things have changed since Jon came into their lives, Tim realizes, biting his bottom lip, but he never thought that his sex life would be one of them. Shirtless Kon has always been a staple of his fantasies, and, Tim confesses, so has shirtless Kon dressed in jeans, a hard hat, and a utility belt full of wrenches and screwdrivers. It's a standard fantasy, he reassures himself as he comes hot and sticky over his thighs. Tim stares at the evidence and clenches his eyes shut, wondering why his fantasy has to be of Kon fixing their twin daughters' bathroom sink.

-

"I wanna see! I wanna see!" Jon shouts when Tim coos at his cellphone, already jumping up and down with grabbyhands. Tim holds it away just on principle but relents when Kon gives him a judgemental look and okay, maybe it _is_ petty to withhold things from children just because they're being rowdy.

"All you had to do was ask," Tim says. He locks the screen on an image of Steph smiling and cradling her 24-week baby bump for Jon to see. She's smiling and glowing and Tim's never seen her happier, especially not when they were together. In other words, she's beautiful.

"She's fat," Jon ultimately concludes, squinting at the phone. Tim snatches it back and hands it to Kon. Jon has been spending _way_ too much time with Damian, and he makes a mental note to bring it up to B.

"She's _pregnant_ ," he corrects. He mouths, 'second pregnancy shows sooner,' to Kon, who mouths back, 'and bigger.' He smacks Kon on the back of his head; it won't hurt him, but it at least gives Tim the satisfaction of feeling like he righted Steph's honor. Tim swears, both of them are children; one is just bigger.

"Whatever." Jon crosses his arms. "Looks like she's fat."

"Better watch it, Jonno," Kon warns, motioning an exaggeratedly belly that looks like he could be twelve months pregnant. "It's not nice to make fun of pregnant girls. Your ma was this big when you were inside her."

"No way!" Jon squeaks, offended.

"Yeah way!"

Tim expects Jon to fall into another "nuh uh!"-"yeah huh!" fight that Kon and Jon are notorious for, but Jon alternates looks between Tim and Kon. He does that for at least a minute, and both Tim and Kon squirm uncomfortably beneath the attention and Jon's unexpected response. Jon's gaze settles on Kon. "So are you gonna be that big when you have a baby?"

"What?” both Tim and Kon ask in unison.

"But I'm a guy! And-- Hey! Why me?" Kon snaps. Tim resists the urge to roll his eyes because of course that would be the part that Kon's most concerned about. Not the fact that neither of them are prepared to talk about the Super-birds and the Bat-bees

"If either of you have a baby, it's gonna be Kon because you're like me and dad so it's safer for the baby to be inside," Jon explains, patting his belly.

Even if Jon was right (and he does have a point, Tim's mind supplies), it's not like it could ever happen. Tim's chest squeezes in quiet want of the thought of Kon glowing like Steph was, but a wave of guilt washes over him nearly immediately. "If only it worked like that, Jon."

"Why not? You and Kon should have a baby," Jon says bluntly. It's innocent and makes Tim's body feels warm from the idea of carrying Kon's child and cold from the sobering reality that it will never be a possibility. "I really want a cousin. Then we could hang out together and stuff. You two are cool, but I want family my age."

"That.... That's...." Kon looks helplessly at Tim as if to say, 'do something!' The way Tim doesn't respond in a way to deny Jon's request starts to make Kon second guess that maybe this isn't just a kink for Tim.

-

Kon shifts uncomfortably in bed, rubbing his back against the mattress like a bear rubs against a tree, and rolls over. He stays there for three seconds before shifting again, this time onto his stomach, and again moments later, this time onto his side.

Tim recognizes the restless tossing as one of Kon's anxious ticks, but he tries to ignore it so that Kon can bring it up on his own time. He keeps typing his last minute report for several more minutes, but Kon's tossing continues and continues. Tim shuts his laptop and sets it onto his nightstand, sighing heavily. "Okay, Kon. What's wrong?"

"I..." Kon starts but shuts his mouth. He frowns and slits his eyes suspiciously at Tim in that I-hate-when-you-know-a-thing-before-I-know-a-thing.

Tim smiles back gently as he scoots closer and starts to run his hands through Kon's hair. "C'mon, you know you can tell me."

"I know. It's just-- This is hard," Kon admits. He remains lying down, resting on his back like when he started, and looks up at the ceiling. After he blows out a big breath, he looks Tim on the eye. "Tim... You don't really want a baby right now, do you?"

Tim takes a deep breath and, holding it, confesses, "I... Yeah, I kind of-- No, I _really_ do."

Kon looks away, breathing out through his nose. "I don't know..."

"Think about it," Tim says, kneeling next to Kon to slip beneath the covers. He presses down on Kon's shoulders and curls against his partner's side, rubbing up and down his chest as he describes the life they could have. "We could take our baby to the park and dress them up in onesies with the shield. We could have play dates with Steph -- she's not due for another four months -- and we could raise our children together."

"But that's just it." Kon rolls on his side to face Tim. He cups his face and strokes his cheek with a thumb. Tim wishes his brows weren't bent so seriously, not in that way that's both critical and sad. "You're only thinking of the good stuff. You're not thinking of getting up at three in the morning when the baby cries, or being too tired to fuck after a day of running after the sprout, or-- Tim, pay attention and don't get starry eyed just 'cause I called our baby a sprout."

Tim's pretty sure his blush gives it away, but he tries to look at least a bit remorseful.

"I don't think being too tired will be a problem," he assures, squeezing one of Kon's nipples. Kon grins cheekily at him before the stormy expression takes over his face again. "But okay, I'm-- Sorry, continue."

Kon takes another steadying breath. "And like. The money--"

"Not a problem," Tim counters.

"Okay, well what are we gonna do when we have different ideas about raising our kid?" Kon's eyebrows shoot up in that way they do whenever he's confronted with a problem he doesn't have an answer for, as if the checkmate is in store.

Of course, Tim was trained by the world's greatest detective, so he calmly continues to pet Kon and, instead of answering Kon's question directly, reasons, "that argument is going to happen anyway."

Kon's starting to pout, but at least he rolls on his side and starts petting Tim's face. Tim sees it for the dirty move it is when Kon knows perfectly well how weak Tim is for his touch. "Well we won't have any alone time any more. Or personal space. It's okay when it's just a short while with Jon but... Tim, that's going to be 24/7."

"I'm counting on it," Tim purrs. Every day he'll be able to watch Kon be perfectly handsome, playing the capable father, spoiling their child with all his love. Tim wants nothing more.

"I just-- _Tim._ " Kon's face scrunches up and he stops circling his thumb over Tim's cheekbone. "Who's going to change the diaper? What are you going to do when the baby tries to eat off the floor? Are you really going to be okay with not being able to meet up with your friends any more? Because I know for a fact that I'm not."

"It's not the end of the world." He sounds a bit defensive and breaks away from Kon's hold. "I just want to have a baby with you."

"And I do too!" Kon says strongly, voice rising in pitch. It's a mutual action when their bodies separate and they start to glare at each other. "But now isn't the right time."

It feels like a personal attack, like Kon doesn't trust Tim's judgement, and Tim unknowingly matches Kon's near-yelling. "If not now, then when? When will it ever be the right time?"

Kon slaps his palm to his forehead and fists his hand so hard that Tim hears it pop. "Jesus-- Tim, you know it's not like that."

"Could have fooled me," Tim spits, crossing his arms and rolling onto his back.

Kon's starting to growl between responses. "What's wrong with enjoying being a kid for awhile longer? Why do you want to grow up so badly?"

"We're nearly twenty-two, Kon." Tim returns to that calm, condescending tone. It's a dirty move, but he knows it gets under Kon's skin.

Tim sees the pink glow around Kon's eyes flash red for a moment, but he hold his chin up defiantly. "Yeah, exactly! We're _twenty-two_ years old!"

As expected, Kon's tone spikes up, leaving Kon to recognize how idiotic he looks to be the only one yelling. Tim can keep this game up all night. And it's a dirty blow but Tim adds: "You said you were serious."

" _And I was._ But I meant in, like, years! You know, your freaky five-year plan!" Just as Tim's about to pump out another rebuttal, Kon stops yelling. The covers flare up and settle awkwardly as Kon throws the covers off and rolls out of bed. "You know what, I'm sleeping on the couch today."

"Fine," Tim spits back, crossing his arms.

"I love you, good night!" Kon says angrily, just before slamming the door.

"Night! I love you too!" Tim snarls, throwing Kon's pillow at the closed door.

-

When Tim wakes up in the middle of the night, alone in their too-big bed, he tiptoes out of bed and retrieves Kon's pillow from the floor, where it settled pathetically against the door. He has far too much pride to ask Kon to come back to sleep, so he holds the pillow to his chest and tiptoes back to his side of the bed. He fluffs the pillow until he can see the permanent indent Kon's head left behind and he deeply inhales against it. Tim's glad they implemented the no-going-to-sleep-without-saying-I-love-you-or-good-night rule because it's the only thing that makes him feel warm in their bed that feels too big and too cold without Kon by his side.

-

When Tim wakes up in the morning, Kon's arms are around his waist and his face is lodged in Tim's neck. Tim could gloat at his win if he really wanted to, but he feels no desire to do so, too comforted by Kon's warmth and the love he has for the man who was willing to put his pride aside to return to their bed. Tim falls back asleep since he had a shitty night of sleep anyway.

-

'Kon might be onto something,' Tim thinks to himself, trying not to scream, as he watches his phone spit angrily and sizzle from the bottom of a bucket full of water.

Jon proudly strikes the Superboy pose next to the bucket, complete with a puff of his chest. Krypto copies the stance as best a dog can do, yipping in agreement when Jon says, "Krypto and I did an experiment to see what things we could drop in water!"

-

"I don't want this! Your stuff always tastes bad!" Jon says, complete with his tongue pushed out in disgust, as he pushes away Tim's soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's not the first time Jon has turned away something Tim cooked, but this time Tim can't blame him because the bread is soggy (he read somewhere that you could refresh stale bread by dousing in water but it didn't seem to work) and there's way too much peanut butter than jelly. A sinking feeling drops his stomach, a feeling of failure and a hint of regret for something given up that he never had in the first place.

Tim can feel his eyes welling as Jon pounds both fists on the tables and demands lunch, and he's about to lose it when he feels Kon's hand rest on hip and give it a squeeze. "Here's a snack until I'm done making your macaroni and cheese."

Jon's face lights up as Kon sets a simple snack of celery, peanut butter, and raisins on the table, arranged to look like ants crawling up the log. "My mom makes this for me all the time!"

Kon leaves Jon to the snack as he guides Tim into the kitchen by the lower back. Tim's holding back the tears but his body is shaking. Kon wraps both arms around him and kisses his cheek. "Calm down, babe. It's just a sandwich."

Tim's cheek is stiff against Kon's lips, and Kon can tell Tim's trying to hold it in. "I'm-- Not. And you're so--"

"It's out of a box, dummy." Kon places his palm against the cupboard and brings a box of Kraft mac to him with his TTK. "All I do is follow the directions. Nothing crazy, see?"

Tim shakes visibly at the sight of the box and Kon mentally kicks himself. Go figure seeing the box would make Tim feel bad about his ability to follow directions or perform a simple task that the masses are apparently capable of doing. "I-I know. But-- I can't even..."

"Babe. Listen." Kon holds Tim close, brushes the bangs out of his face, and rests his forehead against Tim's. "You don't have to do everything by yourself. That's the point, right? We have to be a team if we're gonna do this."

"Mm." Tim presses his forehead into Kon's. "We're a team, right?"

Kon nuzzles Tim's forehead, bumping their noses together, and smiles. "World's finest."

-

Before babysitting Jon, Tim didn't even know how to operate a load of laundry, but now he moves on autopilot to load the blanket that Jon spilled juice on into the washer. He's roused from his routine by the sound of Jon laughing and gasping for breath.

"Mwahaha!" Kon mock laughs at the same time Jon screams, "Stop tickling me!"

Tim imagines that this could be their life: stupid chores and a home filled with laughter. His heart _aches_.

-

It's not all fun and games, Tim knows that. He and Kon spend fifteen minutes before Clark and Lois get home by cleaning up the pencil scribbles from the wall and the animal cracker crumbs from the couch. He's stepped on at least ten Legos since he's met Jon, each resulting in an equally tragic injury. Jon broke a favorite glass figure the last time he visited their apartment, and Tim hasn't let him back since. The amount of laundry Clark, Lois, and Jon have piled up gives Tim nightmares -- and Jon's only a single child, not one of three like Tim would like. Tim is both impressed and exasperated by how many times he's said "don't put that in your mouth" in the past months, and he doesn't understand why Jon _still_ insists on trying to eat markers every now and then.

But when Tim watches Jon chase Kon through a cloud and reappear seconds later in the opposite side of the sky, Krypto barking happily and trailing behind, Tim thinks it could be worth it.

-

"I got you, I got you," Kon says, rocking Jon back and forth. Jon's pulled tightly into a ball, clinging to Kon's chest, and Tim pets up and down along a shoulder and arm as the kid sniffles into Kon's neck. Both of his little arms are linked around Kon's shoulders, and Tim's pressed to Jon's back so that Tim and Kon shield Jon with their bodies from either side. Tim feels how Jon's heaving ribs have begun to even out in deep, strong breaths against his chest, and Kon's rubbing Tim's back up and down as they slowly rock together.

"I think he cried himself to sleep," Kon says with a weak smile. Initially Jon wailed so loudly that it shattered the reinforced glass, which only made the poor kid cry more. "Talk about crying over spilled milk."

Tim can't even laugh. He takes one look at the puddle of spilled milk and switches his glare to Kon. "Not funny."

"I know," Kon says bitterly. His mouth pinches tight and he rests his cheek against Jon's head. Jon shifts in his sleep, and Tim's just thankful that the rumble in the boy's chest are now snores and no longer cries. "It's just. I don't know what else to say. He cried so much he lost his voice. Kids are intense."

"Yeah," Tim agrees easily. He gives Jon's shoulder a final pat before working his hand up to Kon's neck. Kon tilts just enough to kiss Tim's palm and then rests his face there.

Kon hums, eyes closed, and takes a deep breath. "But you know what the weird part is?"

"What?"

"I wasn't afraid. The first time he started crying, I _freaked out_ ." Tim does smile at that, remembering how all the color had drained from Kon's cheeks and lips when he looked at Tim with such helpless eyes. It _definitely_ wasn't funny at the time, but now it was. "But I wasn't this time. I knew what to expect even though it turned out to be way worse and, like," Kon continues, dragging one hand along Tim's shoulder, elbow, and hand until he's cupping Tim's hand, Tim rubbing his thumb along Kon's cheekbones, "you were with me, so I knew it would be fine."

"...We could do this," Tim says quietly. His voice is tight and his eyes are wide. He hasn't brought it up since they talked about it last time. Kon had been skirting the topic ever since. "Together we could do this. I _want_ to do this with you."

"You want to do this?" Kon asks, gesturing toward Jon's sniffles like a smartass.

"Not _this_." Tim snorts back, lips pursed up in that way where he's trying to stop himself from smiling. He won't let Kon divert the topic like he's been doing lately. "But this. Us. And...more of us."

It works this time. It slowly begins to form on Kon's face the moment it registers, leaving Kon looking at Tim with eyes that match the fear of the first time Jon cried. "I want this too."

-

"You're really sure about this?" Kon asks, playing with Tim's hand. It's one of the rare nights where they face each other, bodies untouching, but it's still pleasant. "You're not scared about…?"

Tim hums as he fingers at Kon's engagement ring, liking the way Kon's finger twitches whenever Tim's finger brushes against his skin instead of cool metal. The way Kon trails off isn't promising. " _Duh_ , I'm scared. My parents and Bruce are great but they weren't exactly model parents."

Kon's gentle smile falls and his cheeks flush deeply in the dark. He squeezes Tim's thumb and pets his knuckles with just fingertips. "I don't know the first thing about being a parent."

"Worse men than you are already parents," Tim points out.

"Doesn't mean I'll be a good one," Kon says sourly, though it makes Tim want to scream that Kon's concern is exactly what will make him a great dad. He rubs on Tim's fingernails, pursing his lips out. "I just-- I don't want to mess our kids up. You know what's inside me."

"Yeah, I do." Once Kon releases his fingers, Tim pets his palm, tracing the life line. "The only thing inside of you is a great man who I'm proud to call my husband."

Kon snorts. "Don't say it like that. It sounds like your dick is inside me all the time."

Tim tries not to but he laughs back, smacking Kon's hand. "I'm trying to be supportive here!"

"I know! And-- you are." Tim sees Kon's smiling wrinkles through the dark when Kon hooks their pinkies together. "There's a great man inside you I'm proud to call my husband too."

"Don't do it," Tim warns, pinching the skin on the top side of Kon's hand and twisting it.

"And his name is Conner Kent! _Ow_." Kon yanks his hand free and shakes it out.

"Serves you right." Tim grabs Kon's hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the sore spot.

Kon traces Tim's bottom lip with his thumb, sighing, "I love you."

"I love you too," Tim says, kissing the tip of his thumb, "And hey, we'll learn together, okay?

"Uh huh..."

Tim slips all his fingers in between Kon's and likes the way that Kon does the same and squeezes back gently. When Tim looks across the mattress, Kon is smiling.

-

At a quarter to five in the morning, Kon snaps awake and reaches for Tim beneath the covers. "Tim."

"Hn." That's all Tim offers in his sleepy haze, sounding more like Batman than himself. He at least manages to squeeze Kon's hand, though that might be more reflex than anything else..

"We could have a baby," Kon says.

"Kay." Tim's lips and eyebrows twitch, otherwise Kon would assume Tim's amusing him in his sleep.

They're both sleeping on their backs with their shoulders side-to-side tonight, and obviously Tim's lack of response is less than expected. Kon wants to scream or roll his eyes or shake Tim awake, but instead he tries again: "Like we could _really_ have a baby."

"Yeah," Tim says simply, as though Kon hadn't just agreed to a decision that will change their life forever.

Kon glares for several moments, watching Tim's face for any change. It never happens and Kon at least expects some kind of recognition, even if it's Tim's snarky I-told-you-so tone. " _Tim_ ."

"Mm?" Tim's eyebrows rise without him opening his eyes, in that way that always makes Kon smile and want to kiss his future husband.

Kon closes the space between them, aiming for Tim's lips but kissing Tim's cheek in his sleepy stupor. "I love you."

Tim smiles and lolls his head to the side to face Kon, eyes still shut, half asleep, and happier than he's been in his life. "Same."

-

That morning, Tim straddles Kon's waist and rolls his hips against Kon's. "Let's make a baby."

-

"You know," Kon says, years later, as he sits on a stool in Tim's lab, "when you said you wanted to make a baby, I didn't think this is what you meant."

Not that Kon doesn't enjoy spending time with Tim, but he really has nothing to contribute to Tim's little experiment other than offering words of support and his semen. Which -- yeah, that part was pretty awesome. Kon just expected there would be more coming inside Tim and less coming inside little plastic cups.

"Well, lucky for you," Tim says, after swishing a vial filled with their mixed DNA and inserting it into the computer, "the computer takes care of the rest."

Kon begins to grin wickedly as Tim turns from the computer to face Kon, pin him against one of Tim's chrome science tables, and buck his hips between Kon's legs. The way Tim growls, Kon swears he's already knocked up. 


	2. gala extra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this didn't really fit in the flow of the fic, but here's what was supposed to happen at the gala. warning for intoxication!

So Kon said, but Tim doubts Kon _actually means it_. If he did, he wouldn't be toying with Tim's emotions like this. Tim's doing his best to smile for the cameras, but inside he's _burning_. It's times like now that Tim wishes he was just Timothy Jackson Drake and not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. If he weren't a Wayne, then Kon would have no reason to show up to the fancy Wayne galas, dress in a suit that Tim literally wants to rip off his body, _or_ cradle babies to his chest while Tim poses with their mothers.

"Looking good, Tim!" Kon praises from beside the camera, twisting the baby boy in his arms so that he can wave a little arm at his mother. "You too, Mrs. Astor. Say hi to mama!"

The crowd coos and a few of the cameras change their direction to Kon, who has become the most beloved newcomer to Gotham's elite scene. Tim can't even blame them because Kon has him completely charmed just holding a baby. Tim _knows_ he should be happy to simply enjoy the sight of Kon holding a cute baby, but if he's being honest with himself for once, he's not. He's not satisfied with _just_ that. He's filled with-- something. Something that makes his stomach twist in want for that child in Kon's arms to be theirs.

Tim imagines himself turning to Mrs. Astor right now and asking her how much she _really_ loves her child. She's just like all the rest, willing to give anything for the right price, and a woman like that doesn't deserve a child. He knows the kind of woman she is, and that child would be far better off with him and Kon. They would raise him as their own in a loving home and soft laughter and smiles and-- "Champagne, Tim?"

"No," Tim responds coolly. His voice is even and flat, his tone isn't snappish, and he feels in control. This feeling won't control him; he'll control _it_.

"Seriously, dude, drink it. You look like you need it," Kon insists. He looks up and down Tim's body in a way that makes Tim's skin crawl because Kon _never_ looks at him that way. The only people Kon looks at like that are bad guys and the people he loves when he's really scared for them. Tim takes the glass of champagne.

-

"I lov' youuu," Tim slurs, laughing openly in a way he never does, except for when he has one too many champagnes. He's lost count of how many he's had tonight and he stumbles from the world spinning too quickly. It's bright and there's a W for Wayne on the floor when he nearly falls into it, caught by something he can't see-- And then he laughs again because _Kon._

"I got you." Tim cheers when Kon lifts Tim up and holds him bridal style. Tim feels warm and safe in Kon's arms, even if the world makes him swish from side-to-side like he's on a boat. He presses his nose against Kon's neck, liking the strong pulse there.

"Nooo, I got _you._ " Tim looks up from Kon's neck and smiles loosely at his face. Kon is the most handsome thing that he has every seen. How did he get so lucky to get a man like Kon? "Do you know tha' you are waaay prettier than Angelina Jolie? Do you know tha'?"

Kon gently dumps him forward where a bed has miraculously appeared, chuckling behind him. "I'm glad you think I'm pretty. Now get in the bed, baby."

"Mmm!! _Babies!_ " Tim giggles at the pet name and spins onto his back, half hanging off of the bed to face Kon again, clapping his palms against Kon's cheeks with every word he says. "I! Wanna! Give! You! So! Many! Babies!"

"I know, Tim," Kon laughs gently, petting his fiancé's face. "You've told me that twice tonight. As well as everybody else you've talked to. _Seriously_ , you should have seen Bruce's face."

Tim tilts his head back and laughs some more. Next thing he knows, he's slumped against Kon and making small sounds, but Kon's patting his back and talking to him gently the entire time, asking if he's okay or needs water. "No," Tim whines, "I need a baby."

-

"Rise and shine, handsome," Kon laughs the next morning. It makes Tim's head feel like it's vibrating, and Tim groans. He feels like _death_.

"Tell me I didn't do anything embarrassing last night."

"Well I could, but that would be a lie." Tim pulls a pillow over his head to block out the shame and Kon's head-splitting laughter. "Don't worry, Dick got you out after three drinks. The worst you did was tell some stuck up donors that we were going to open an orphanage and adopt all the babies. Seriously, you have to stop doing that thing where you disappear and sneak up on people without making a sound. You were so drunk, I don't know how you kept doing it."

Tim only replies in a distressed half-muffle, half-cry. Face planted in the mattress, it's hard to tell which it is.

"Nah, it wasn't until we got home that it got really bad. You kept drinking until even _Jason_ came over, and everybody stayed up watching because we'd never seen anything like it."

"Oh my god," Tim moans dryly. His throat is on _fire_ from how dry it is, but he waves Kon's offer of water and a Tylenol away. "I don't believe you. I would never."

Kon cackles and pulls the pillow from Tim's head. Tim hates him for it, but not as much as he hates Kon for showing him a video of it. There on Kon's phone, Tim's chugging straight from a wine bottle and raises his hand, stumbling to stand on the coffee table downstairs.

_"I wanna make a toast!"_

_"What are you toasting to?" Jason eggs on from the side. Alfred refills his glass in the background._

_Kon's view panes to each of the seats, everybody from their team piled on the seats and eagerly awaiting Tim's toast._

_"Stop encouraging him," Bruce says coolly, who remains off screen._

_"This is shameful," Damian agrees, arms crossed and glaring right at the camera._

_"Shh! Let Tim make his toast," Dick says, obviously restraining a laugh. "Go on, Tim."_

_"Thank you," the himself on screen says, pointing to Dick. "That's why you're my favorite. And_ **_you_** _," Tim says, pointing to the camera, "are my favorite too. My favorite favorite!"_

_"You're my favorite too," Kon's voice snickers, from behind the phone._

_"What about me?" Steph asks, rubbing her barely-there stomach and Tim nods again._

_"Yes! You too! And the baby!_ **_Especially_ ** _the baby. Everybody but Jason!"_

_"Harsh," Jason mocks with fake sniffles. "I'm so hurt."_

_"What about that toast, babe?" Kon asks, and Tim wobbles from his perch, cheeks reddening further and getting a dreamy look on his face._

_"Everybody listen! This is important." Tim pauses dramatically before announcing, "Brangelina is getting divorced!"_

_On the edge of the camera's view, Cass nods in agreement with the woeful news._

_Steph's drinking water, but she spits it out and everybody roars in laughter when Tim says, "So Kon an' I are gonna be the new Brangelina!"_

_"How wonderful, Master Timothy."_

_Dick's holding his sides and even Damian quirked a smile. "Ridiculous..."_

_"Get it, Timbo!"_

_Tim's smiling and holding the bottle up in cheers, which everybody mirrors -- yes, even Bruce from the edge of the camera's view -- and drinks to. "Call us Konimothy! Or Timmer! Timconner. Timkon! Call us Timkon!"_

_"Oh my god," Kon's voice comes from behind the stream. "Okay, baby, time to go to bed. That's enough for tonight, alright?"_

The feed stops in place there. Apparently Kon dropped the phone midair because the last frame is of Tim scooped up in Kon's arms, Kon smiling down at Tim. Tim's cupping Kon's cheek and Kon's hair is sticking up from wind resistance. They look so ridiculous, and they look so in love.

"Do you hate me?" Tim mumbles hesitantly, scared but forcing himself to look up to Kon.

Kon brushes his bangs away and kisses Tim's forehead. He smiles and rests his forehead against Tim's. "I could never hate the father of my children."


End file.
